All Time Travelers Go to Heaven
by cresselia8themoon
Summary: AU. When Balthazar Cavendish is murdered after a successful mission, he comes back to life just so he can save the world to spite his killer. And the first step is saving a boy codenamed the Jinx. However, if his watch stops ticking, his soul is doomed. Cover art by milomurphysblawg on Tumblr!
1. Jailbreak

_Welcome to another AU! Inspired by All Dogs Go to Heaven! I'm not changing their species to dogs though. Everyone's still a human._

 _Ch 1- Jailbreak_

* * *

In hindsight, knocking over that rich lady with the expensive mink coat while fleeing from the police had not been his greatest moment. And he'd saved the British royal family from the terrible fate that surely would've befallen them had they kept ownership of the Hope Diamond. But were they grateful for his service?

No, of course not. The Hope Diamond had been stored with the rest of the Crown Jewels. Heavily guarded, but a minor inconvenience for an experienced time traveler such as himself. That part of the heist had been successful, at least.

However, he had miscalculated the time when the Queen would be passing through on her way to the royal garden. Upon discovering him with the Hope Diamond, she'd collapsed in a dead faint while her servant girl screamed for someone to nab him.

And that sparked a horse-drawn carriage chase through the streets of London. Balthazar had hoped to reach the countryside. The police in this time period never concerned themselves with the surrounding villages.

Those hopes were dashed when a rich lady stepped out in front of the carriage, and Balthazar had been forced to yank on the reins so he didn't run her over. The force of the sudden stop had thrown him off the driver's seat and into the lady.

He'd almost lost his hearing when she started screaming about his reckless driving. Somehow he'd managed to send the Hope Diamond back to headquarters with the Temporal Transporter while she smacked him over the head with a lacy parasol.

Then the police surrounded him, leading the lady away to take a statement.

Another job well screwed up.

Now he was locked up in the Tower of London. The least they could do was tell him what he was being charged with. But it probably didn't matter anyway. Balthazar didn't have the money to bribe the authorities into letting him go.

The cell was tiny and disgusting. A wooden rack that served as a poor excuse for a bed was attached to the stone wall by two clinking chains. A small wooden bucket stood in one corner, Did they really expect him to use that?

Gross.

The only light came from a tiny window, much too small for any human to fit through. Unless the door slot the guards pushed mush through counted.

Balthazar didn't think it did.

He couldn't teleport out with the Temporal Transporter either. The guard in charge of bringing him food had confiscated that when he arrived. The first order of business was getting it back.

"Dakota, any time would be nice. If you don't spring me out by the time the British Empire crumbles, then I'm not paying the cable bill and you shall have to deal with missing the season finales of your foreign soap operas," Balthazar muttered.

He heard keys jangling from outside. The door to the cell rattled as someone unlocked it. The door slowly creaked open, a guard in an ill-fitting uniform signaling him to stand up. As the guard moved behind him to restrain his hands, Balthazar saw a flash of tinted glasses peeking out from underneath the giant black hat. The guard made a shushing motion with his hand, adjusting his fake mustache, which was tilted to the right.

"Is the fake mustache necessary?" Balthazar hissed as they walked down the flight of stairs.

"Yes," Vinnie replied. "I just wanted to see what's it's like having hair on my upper lip. And it's really inconvenient. How do you eat without getting food everywhere?"

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "It makes me look more distinguished. Moving on to more important matters, I need to get my Temporal Transporter back."

"Do you know who has it?" Vinnie asked. They passed by a guard in his underwear, struggling to free himself from a rope. "Oh, sorry about stealing your uniform. Especially when it's kind of drafty in here."

"The one who's been tasked with bringing me that disgusting prison food," Balthazar said. "But I have no idea where he is now."

"Hey, you!" a large man called out. "Why are you out of your cell?" He blocked the only way out. They were surrounded by stone on all sides. And Balthazar didn't know how far off the ground they were either.

Vinnie chuckled nervously. "I was ordered to. By the Queen."

"Oh, really?" The guard blocking their path crossed his arms in disbelief. Now that his arm was out of the way, Balthazar could clearly see the tip of the Temporal Transporter poking out from his belt. "And how come this is the first time I've heard that order?"

They wouldn't even need to reach the bottom of the stairs. Once Balthazar had the Transporter, they could just teleport out. And he'd be a free man as long as he avoided the Victorian Era.

"Dakota, do you have the knockout gas?" Balthazar whispered.

"Sure, right, uh-" Vinnie felt around his uniform. "Oh, I must have left it in my jacket by mistake." Balthazar glared at him. "Well, this was the best way I could think of to get in! Which, now that I think about it, is kind of anticlimactic. Movies always made jailbreaks look more exciting than this. And I just realized he can hear everything I'm saying, so I'm just gonna zip my lips now."

The guard let out a battle cry and charged at them. In the narrow passageway, there was no room to dodge, and Vinnie was squished under Balthazar as they lost their balance and toppled over. Balthazar rolled off his partner and barely blocked a punch, just inches away from his chest.

"I'm a lot stronger than I look," Balthazar retaliated with a punch of his own, though it sank into the material of the thick uniform and did nothing.

"Give it up, old man," the guard growled. "You're no match for someone in the best Royal Guard in the world."

Balthazar swept his leg underneath the guard's, knocking him on his back. Then he unhooked the Transporter from his belt and checked it to make sure it wasn't damaged. The screen was slightly dusty, but otherwise it was fine. For good measure, Balthazar punched the guard in the face while he was dazed from the impact. He moaned in pain, clutching his broken, bleeding nose.

"And that's for calling me old," Balthazar said, calibrating the Transporter for the Bureau.

"Whoa. At least you didn't push him down the stairs," Vinnie commented.

Balthazar shrugged. "Believe me. It was tempting. Anyway, I managed to successfully get the Hope Diamond to headquarters. I just didn't account for the Tower of London, that's all. Now, let's get out of here. This place is terribly drafty. Besides, I do believe we're overdue for a hero's welcome."

The familiar blue portal opened, revealing the Bureau among the swirling mist. "Does the hero's welcome include hot dogs?" Vinnie asked. "Because I stopped at a pub on my way, and the fish and chips were terrible."

"Yeah, sure," Balthazar said as they stepped through. Once they were safely on the other side, he cut the connection, the other time period fading away.

A successful mission meant praise, and possibly a promotion. And that would lead to being able to afford a house, or a mansion, or a cool car, and Vinnie would get all the food he could stuff himself with.

After all this time, his goal was to save the world was being realized. It was a noble pursuit, one filled with action, danger, and fame.

Balthazar was getting closer. He could feel it.

* * *

 _The Hope Diamond is real by the way. And CURSED. Dun dun dun!_


	2. A Hero's Not So Welcome

_Ch 2- A Hero's Not So Welcome_

* * *

Due to lunch break, the Bureau was almost empty. The halls smelled of formaldehyde, as always. While the lobby was large, it had no pictures. No comfortable benches, or a coffee machine for sleep-deprived agents. There was a help desk, but it was rarely staffed and used more as extra storage space.

Everything needed to run smoothly so missions could be efficient. Balthazar and Vinnie were used to it, but that didn't stop them from wishing for a warm welcome on occasion.

For once, Balthazar was looking forward to reporting to Mr. Block. "I can't wait to see the look on his face," Balthazar remarked. "Then he'd have no choice but to give me-pardon me-us, a promotion!"

"I don't want to be a spoilsport since that's your job and all, but, uh, how do I say this in a sensitive manner..." Vinnie trailed off, shuffling his feet. Balthazar stopped in his tracks.

"But what? You know you can say whatever here? There aren't any superiors in earshot," Balthazar said. "I'm in such a good mood that I can completely ignore your spoilsport comment."

Vinnie gulped, his eyes darted around. "Don't get your hopes up. It's just one mission. I don't think we'd be promoted because of a lucky fluke. And we did botch the escape part."

A fluke? That was all it was to him? They were partners!

Why didn't Vinnie support him? He was more than willing to share the victory! Or perhaps it never mattered to him! Just another person willing to drag him through the mud.

True, the escape hadn't gone according to plan, but if Vinnie hadn't stopped to stuff his face at that pub, then they would've been out of there a lot sooner!

"How dare you call it a lucky fluke," Balthazar growled. "It takes pure skill to break into the Crown Jewels and steal a diamond successfully. Does our partnership suddenly not matter anymore? You sure were taking your sweet time to rescue me from the Tower of London."

Vinnie's mouth flopped open. "What? When did I say that? I just don't want you to get your hopes up and they suddenly crash and burn!"

"It's not going to crash and burn!" Balthazar shouted. "And we will be promoted after this! We worked hard, we deserve it! No more protecting pistachios or inconsequential missions, just think! Top secret missions, tuxedos, limousines, meeting world leaders, then our names will go down in history!"

"Balthazar, calm down," Vinnie pleaded. "Think about it. The boss barely remembers our names. And it took the other top agents years to get where they are now. One mission isn't suddenly gonna make you a top agent. And I know that position has its perks, but then we'd be completely dedicated to the job."

"I'm already dedicated to my career!" Balthazar retorted. Great, now he was questioning his loyalty too?

Vinnie raised an eyebrow. "I know you are. Though you'd think with time at our fingertips, there would be room for a personal life."

Balthazar could think of nothing else to say. With pistachio protecting during the day, and coming up with ways to get recognition at the Bureau during the night, there was no room to take up a hobby, search for romance, or travel the globe.

Once he joined the Bureau, the mission was his life. Nothing else mattered.

There was nothing in his old life to return to either.

"Dakota, I'm going to report to Mr. Block," Balthazar said, sounding calmer than he felt. "You may go wherever now."

"I'm coming with you, Balthy," Vinnie said, folding his arms. "We're partners. We work together. And I might've overstepped there. Sorry."

Balthazar wanted to apologize too, but the two simple words died in his throat. "I'd rather do this alone." He rounded the corner and broke into a sprint. He could hear Vinnie shouting, urging him not to be so hasty. Yelling that things would work out eventually. It was a good thing he was much faster than other men his age.

The elevator doors slid open, and Balthazar stepped in, rapidly hitting a button so that the doors closed before Vinnie could follow. It would be another five floors to Mr. Block's office.

Surely that would be enough time to collect his thoughts.

But then, he accused of Vinnie of not taking their partnership seriously. That was a lie and he knew it. Vinnie wouldn't make stuff fall apart because he'd lost his temper. Vinnie was polite and easy to make small talk with.

He'd never made a mission fail because he was too proud. Or lost their meager earnings because he was clumsy and stupid.

That was all Balthazar. It was all on him.

No wonder nobody took him seriously. He was a joke. One big joke who had never done anything correctly in his life, and never would amount to anything in the-

No. Stop it.

He could do it. He could prove them wrong! It was just a matter of time.

A matter of time until he royally screwed up again. And went through this entire process again. And push Vinnie away again.

This pessimism was getting him nowhere. He needed to think clearly in front of Mr. Block. And not let him get under his skin. Balthazar mentally cursed himself. He never should've left Vinnie downstairs. The moral support would've been nice.

Appreciated too. Not that he'd admit it, of course.

Before Balthazar entered Mr. Block's office, he detoured to the restroom to splash some water on his face and brace himself for the inevitable barrage of insults. He had to be composed for this. If he truly wanted this promotion, then he'd better act like it.

Five minutes later, he was standing outside the office door. He knocked, and he could hear papers crinkle in response. Either Mr. Block was straightening his desk to look presentable or he was annoyed and tearing up documents because he didn't want to deal with subordinates. Balthazar suspected the latter.

"Come in," Mr. Block ordered. "And that BLT better be hot or-" Balthazar opened the door. Mr. Block's hands drummed on the desk in irritation. "Cartman. Unless you brought me lunch, I'm not interested."

"Yes, well, pardon me sir. I just stopped by to report that my partner and I have successfully transported the Hope Diamond to headquarters," Balthazar stated. "I was curious if you had any new objectives for us."

Mr. Block choked on his soda, letting out a hoarse grunt of laughter. "This is a new development. I don't ever seem to recall you barging in here and claiming you successfully accomplished something."

"If you don't believe me, then you can check with the lab," Balthazar said. "The Hope Diamond should be there."

Block rolled his eyes. "Very well." He pushed a button on his desk, and a video screen popped up that connected him to the lab. "Kingsley. Did the Hope Diamond arrive in the lab?"

Balthazar held his breath.

"Affirmative, sir," Kingsley replied. "The Hope Diamond arrived at approximately 9:47 am, ten seconds. We ordered the Jinx to put it in a secure case for safekeeping until our equipment stops malfunctioning."

He couldn't believe it. It was almost too good to be true.

"You allowed the Jinx to handle something?" Block asked. "He's not to leave the cell unless there's a mission. Put him back immediately." He hung up, groaning. "Why did they saddle me with a bunch of incompetent morons?"

Balthazar was still giddy with relief that he hadn't failed after all. "The Jinx? Is this a new criminal?"

"Nothing lower level agents need to concern themselves with," Block grunted. "You got your vindication. Now get out."

"One more thing before I take my leave," Balthazar said. "Now that I've proved the mission's success, perhaps another one is in order?"

"Another mission?" Block snorted. "But you and Kentucky didn't arrive with the Diamond. What was the reason for the delay?"

This was the part Balthazar wanted to omit. But he had no choice in the matter. "I was arrested and locked in the Tower of London. A minor hiccup."

Block leaned forward, smirking. "You call being locked in one of the most infamous prisons in history a minor hiccup? The Bureau is beyond the laws of all time periods, and yet you still manage to lose to the police. You're still just a pistachio protecting nobody who was setback by a case that was beneath almost every other agent's skill level."

Balthazar lowered his head, clenching his hands in his pockets. Without bothering to salute or wait for a curt dismissal, he marched out of the office and slammed the door shut behind him. On the way to the elevator, his arm knocked into an intern who was carrying a tray with a sandwich and tater tots. The intern dropped the tray in surprise, spilling the sandwich's contents on the floor.

He tipped his hat and apologized, but didn't feel sorry for ruining Block's lunch.

He wasn't ready to face Dakota yet. A million thoughts ran through his head, each more rash than the last. If they wouldn't give him a mission, then he'd take one for himself. Dakota would never approve, so he was on his own.

The filing room was full of missions that hadn't been taken yet. The room was usually staffed by secretaries, but they had the latest lunch break out of everyone and wouldn't be back for another half hour. Now was the perfect time to break in.

Using a bobby pin to pick the lock, Balthazar slipped in and slowly closed the door, making sure that it didn't creak. Filing cabinets lined the back wall, neatly organized alphabetically or by time period. For simplicity's sake, Balthazar decided to take a mission that was in the 20th or 21st century. He wasn't particular about the location though.

He tugged on the nearest drawer. Just his luck it was padlocked. Unlocking it, rifling through the documents, and replacing the padlock would take precious time. He would have to leave it. In fact, all the drawers were locked securely.

That is, all except one. The drawer was on the bottom, which made it easier. There was only one manila folder laying inside, a black and white photo of the Golden Gate Bridge spilling out. Balthazar skimmed the document, thumbing through the contents quickly.

It was perfect, in Balthazar's opinion. A foggy night in 1962. He wouldn't be noticed at all by locals. A rogue time traveler was attempting to help four convicts escape Alcatraz. In the main time stream, there were conflicting accounts of what became of the convicts. Some thought they drowned in San Francisco Bay, others speculated they fled the United States entirely.

However, it was clear the rogue was trying to avert this fate. Balthazar didn't know if they were friends, or if they had evil intentions for innocent people. Perhaps both.

And it was up to him to put an end to it and make certain that the course of history wasn't changed. He stowed the file inside his coat, then exited the filing room and locked the door so nothing appeared to be amiss.

Breaking into a sprint, he almost bowled over Savannah, who barely stepped out of the way. Her nose scrunched up at the sight of him. But he was too excited now. He was going to prove her wrong. A real mission. It was much different than anything he'd tackled before.

It was nerve-wracking, but exciting all the same.

He ducked into a storage room and set the coordinates in his Temporal Transporter for 1962. Facing the portal, which held a view of a brilliant sunset, he inhaled sharply and put one foot on a grassy hill. This was it. There was no turning back. He followed through with his other foot and closed the connection.

If he could do this, he could do anything. And he wouldn't need anyone's help.

* * *

 _Balthazar what are you doing no go back stop giving me grumpy old man feels_


	3. The Mission

_Ch 3- The Mission_

* * *

In the span of an hour, it was clear that he'd made several errors in his haste. First, he completely forgot that that the Transporter emitted traceable signals in the event that an agent lost theirs and it needed to be tracked down. He didn't have the mechanical know-how to deactivate that particular mechanism. If the Bureau discovered he hopped the time stream without clearance, the consequences could be severe.

For once, being a lower level agent could be handy. He wouldn't be the top priority, and in the chance that they did notice, they could easily attribute it to 'Balthazar screws up everything.'

The second error was not telling Vinnie anything. He tried not to dwell on that one.

The last was not double checking the file before he time traveled. Balthazar had already memorized the date, location, and names, but the photo of the Golden Gate Bridge fell out somewhere along the way.

Perhaps it was blown away by the cold, merciless wind. Seemed reasonable enough. He'd never been to the Bay Area before, and as a consequence underestimated how chilly nights could be. Vinnie gave really good bear hugs so...

No. Enough about him. Balthazar needed to focus.

He checked his pocket watch. Currently, it was nine-thirty at night. In just a few short hours, the rogue would appear on the side of the bridge closest to the mountains and direct the convicts to shore.

Something felt off though. The rogue's only physical trait listed on the file was black hair. The vast majority of files Balthazar had studied were more descriptive, detailing almost every minute of a person's life, right down to the coffee shops they liked to frequent. But the rogue's document only had a silhouette with a question mark, and no identifying features except for the ever-so-helpful black hair listed in Times New Roman.

A limousine coasted by. Balthazar stiffened, wondering if Brick and Savannah had caught wind of his plan. If they caught him, they would surely drag him back to the Bureau in a straitjacket. The limousine stopped in front of the large boulder Balthazar was staked out behind.

He stiffened, reaching inside his coat for his brass knuckles. The door opened. Balthazar prepared to spring from his hiding place...

And a young man in a tuxedo, definitely not Brick, helped a lady in a wedding dress out of the vehicle. They laughed and kissed, a hired photographer taking several shots of them before they drove off.

Just a false alarm. Balthazar sighed in relief, slipping off the weapons.

Half an hour later, a dull green car pulled up. The driver, a man with a flaming red beard, opened the trunk, hauling out a searchlight and several long coils of rope. Balthazar used his binoculars to watch as he set the light on the walkway of the bridge, flicking it on so that it shone a large, bright light in the murky water below.

He turned his binoculars to the bay, adjusting the settings so he could see the tiny prison of Alcatraz. However, it looked like any other rocky island since he was so far away. He couldn't determine if the guards knew there was a prison break.

Looking up to make sure nobody had discovered his location, Balthazar noticed there was another person in the car. Another accomplice maybe?

He scanned the bay, but was unable to find the raft with all the convicts. The wind picked up, stirring the waves. Balthazar's hat blew off. He reached out to catch it, but the hat landed on the hood of the car.

The rear door opened, and a man with curly black hair smirked as he plucked the hat off the hood. Balthazar stifled a gasp, pinching himself to make sure he wasn't falling asleep.

It made sense now. Why there wasn't a picture available in the file, or any other information that divulged the rogue's identity besides hair color...

Mr. Block held up the hat to the other man, who nodded and checked underneath the car. Looking for him.

They were looking for him, he realized. He needed to calm down. He needed to get out of here. Balthazar debated using the Transporter to hop to another time period, but dismissed the idea after a few seconds. The portal wouldn't open fast enough, and the light generated would give away his location.

What did he have that could be used against them? The brass knuckles were a last resort if he was cornered. He might be impulsive, but he was no fool.

Or at least he thought he was no fool.

A grappling hook? But it malfunctioned constantly. Too risky. It also didn't have enough reach to hook into the bridge's support structures at the top.

His fingers closed around a can of pepper spray. Crude for his standards, but it was the only other item he had.

The fog rolled in, obscuring everything beyond ten feet in front of him. The searchlight was slightly dimmer, though fairly bright in contrast to the gray haze of its surroundings. He reached for his night vision goggles out of instinct, only to remember they had been blown off with his hat.

The convicts would be left with without a beacon, but as far as Balthazar was concerned, they weren't the issue. They didn't keep him on a payroll. They didn't constantly call him by the wrong name, belittle him, and mock him every day his career.

That was all Mr. Block.

But why was he trying to help them? The Bureau didn't negotiate with criminals. Refused every ransom, never paid bail, never compromising on their demands.

Balthazar readied the can of pepper spray. The footsteps were drawing closer. The fog was denser now. Since he barely see his own hand, he would have to rely on his other senses to get him through this ordeal.

The footsteps were closer.

His finger twitched on the button. Not yet. Wait.

Closer.

No time to hesitate. Spray and run to the searchlight. It needed to be destroyed at all costs.

Silence.

A loud hiss escaped the can as Balthazar sprayed it in his would-be captor's face. The man recoiled in agony. Balthazar threw the can at his head to slow him down farther.

Not bothering to check if he hit his mark, Balthazar dashed towards the incredibly dim light, taking out his grappling hook. Ignoring the feeling in his gut that he was essentially sentencing four people to death, he slammed the hook against the glass.

The light was blinding. Another smash. The glass splintered.

Too blinding. He closed his eyes, and his fist shattered the rest of the glass. Then he ripped the bulb out, smashing it underfoot.

His hand was bleeding now, but he didn't care. The mission was complete.

Was it strange that he thought his actions accomplished nothing? He completed a mission, but there was nothing grandiose about it. Mr. Block was involved.

Mr. Block! Balthazar cursed. He completely forgot about that jerk.

"BALTHAZAR! LOOK OUT!"

Before Balthazar could process that voice, his head painfully slammed against the railing. A hand roughly grabbed his hair, pulled back, then slammed it against the metal once again.

"The rogue agent," Mr. Block grunted, digging his boot into Balthazar's spine. "You've been a disappointment to the Bureau for a long time."

The pressure on his back ceased, but the other man recovered all too soon from the pepper spray and lifted Balthazar by his collar, choking him. He couldn't move. He couldn't think of a sarcastic comeback. All he could do was be a ragdoll for these sadistic monsters.

"You took the bait. Anyone else would've seen through the set up. This is why you're the bottom of the barrel."

He was dangling in the air. His head was shoved down so he could see nothing but the dark, murky water below. The waves clashed fiercely, ready to devour their prey. The wind chilled him to the core.

"Nothing but a disappointment to the Bureau. All your hard work was for nothing. Your entire life was dedicated to time travel, and you blew it."

The last thing he'd see was fog. Starting from nowhere and ending nowhere.

"You can't save the world. Leave that to someone who won't screw up."

"BALTHAZAR!"

The voice again. But he was too far away. There was nothing he could do. His pride had led him here. And he was falling.

Falling.

Everything hurt. Everything was broken.

For one peaceful moment, everything was blissfully dark.

Then an explosion suddenly danced across his vision, and he was shooting towards a sliver of light that peeked out from behind the clouds.


	4. For Heaven's Sake

_Ch 4- For Heaven's Sake_

* * *

Balthazar was deposited in front of a high golden gate, decorated with sparkling pearls and diamonds with hues that he'd never seen before. A royal carpet led towards a podium that sat next to the gate. Did he manage to activate the Transporter while falling? He didn't remember seeing a portal.

This was unusual. Maybe this was the future.

"I need to find a local so I can figure out the time period," Balthazar muttered.

Easier said than done. There was nobody on his side of the gate, though he could see a few winged beings lazily drifting in the distance. They were too far away though.

That's when he noticed the bell. 'Please ring for assistance', the sign read. Balthazar brought his fist down on the bell, tapping his foot while he waited.

A man materialized behind the podium, though for some reason one hand was in a present. He looked rather handsome for someone with a peculiar fashion sense. Wouldn't even look out of place as a television personality.

"Welcome to heaven!" he exclaimed. "My name is Orton and I'll be your guide here."

"I'm sorry, did you say heaven?" Balthazar's jaw dropped open.

A heavy book appeared in a flash of light, and Orton flipped a few pages. "As in 'good heavens' or 'seven minutes in heaven', yes. Let's see Cooper, no too far. Darn it. The company who made these books took out the automatic feature in this new edition so now I have to manually flip these darn things to the right page." He grumbled to himself as he flipped to the correct page.

"Heaven? How did I wind up here?" Balthazar asked, thinking back to what he was doing in his...last moments of life.

"Goodness sake, you're dense," Orton muttered. "You're dead. Six feet under. Kicked the bucket. Stone cold. How many more euphemisms would you like?"

He'd been on a mission. He ran into his boss. His boss wanted to kill him. He was thrown off the Golden Gate Bridge.

He was dead.

He was dead and hadn't realized it.

"Now, let's see. Balthazar Cavendish, time traveler," Orton's eyes scanned down the page. "Oh good, I thought I was going to need to read down the list. Time traveler is an automatic qualification for entry. But I'll admit I'm curious now, so..."

"I need to get back!" Balthazar growled, ignoring Orton summoning an inkwell, contract, and a quill as he read the profile. "I need to prove them wrong!"

"Sign here please," Orton pointed to a dotted line without lifting his eyes from the page. Balthazar snatched the quill and furiously wrote his signature, not caring when bits of ink splattered all over the paper. The contract disappeared.

Orton continued to lean over the book, humming softly. "Let's see, grumpy, short-tempered, rash, vindictive, egotistical, a complex, pride, blaming others for your own faults, and making an intern drop the Blockhead's sandwich."

"Is that last one supposed to be a bad thing?" Balthazar asked.

"Depends on your point of view. I got bored and sent a gust of wind to put some pickles in the sandwich. He hates pickles," Orton replied. "Then the prank got ruined when you accidentally knocked the intern over."

Ruining a supernatural prank seemed more believable than being dead. Even if he preferred to go by science. Solid evidence, happenings that could be disproven at any given moment. He liked to consider himself rational.

But there wasn't anything to rationalize when he was dead.

"Since you're new here, all newcomers get a tour of heaven," Orton said, snapping his fingers. "At the end, you'll get a free robe. No worries, one size fits all. However, the halo and wings are tailored to the individual. You'll be able to choose from dozens of styles."

The gates opened, and Orton floated along the cloud path. "I would advise you to float," he suggested. "It's faster than walking."

Balthazar figured that it was better to oblige him, at least until he could figure out a way to get back to earth. "How...nice," he muttered, trying to avoid the tingling sensation in his stomach at floating. He grabbed the golden bars of the gate for support.

"Take your time," Orton called. "The wings are merely an aesthetic. We can fly without them just fine. Or you can choose not to get them, like me. They're still working on a design to fit easily through tailcoats."

"Good to know," Balthazar said, the queasiness slowly leaving his stomach. While he was by no means comfortable, he let go of the bars and drifted after Orton.

He had no idea where he was going. The carpet only went up to the gates, and the rest was nothing a multicolored sky and fluffy white clouds. There was no clear path marked out, but Orton seemed to know the way quite well.

"So why it that time travelers get into heaven with attached strings?" Balthazar asked. "Is there some kind of priority?"

Orton hummed thoughtfully, flipping on his back and resting his arms behind his head. "The system is complicated for people. Depends on what they believe in life, I guess. Dogs have it much easier. Every canine goes to the same place. Time travelers get their own paradise, because they bear witness to history's accomplishments, good and bad. They've seen more than most people, experienced more loss than most people, but grow and learn their roles as a human should."

Balthazar looked off into the distance. Did he ever believe in the afterlife? He didn't remember.

"Enough heavy stuff," Orton clapped. "Here we are in the Hall of Clocks."

Balthazar had never seen so many clocks in his life. Many cuckoo clocks hung off the cloud walls, pendulums swinging. Huge grandfather clocks drifted in the distance, and alarm clocks were scattered all over the place. "You have quite the collection," Balthazar said.

"Every clock represents a person's life," Orton explained. "This is one of the things common to heaven no matter how you entered." He reached out to snag a pocket watch by its green strap. "This one is yours. As you can see, the hands have stopped. When the hands stop, that's the end of life."

11:46. With a start, Balthazar realized it must have been the time of his death. "Is it possible to wind it up again?"

"And send you back?" Orton raised an eyebrow, letting go of the pocket watch. "No, no. Nobody's ever allowed to go back. It's never been done before."

So it was possible. His hand crept to his personal watch, snapping off the chain that attached it to his coat. Now to distract Orton enough to switch them and wind up the one that would return him to earth...

"Everyone has a clock no matter if they're dead or alive," Orton said. "Every clock is kept in meticulous condition. There are a lot more time travelers than people think, after all. Oh, here's Danielle's sundial. She's one of our senior angels, you know. Born in the Dark Ages, that's why hers is a little more archaic than most..."

Balthazar tuned out Danielle's story, instead focusing on getting that watch. He needed to be careful here...

He took hold of the strap, but before he could switch them, Orton suddenly gave him a friendly push from behind. "If you're interested in her story, give me a shout," he explained, pushing Balthazar out of the Hall of Clocks. "It's a long one. Now, let us be on our way to the Eternal Library. That's where we store all our written records. What people accomplished in their life, relations, careers, birth, death..."

He didn't even notice the pocket watch. For once, a plan was working.

"You're certainly thorough," Balthazar commented. He released his pocket watch, letting it float towards the Hall of Clocks. While Orton described all the work that went into record keeping, Balthazar hid the watch under his vest, tucking the strap under his collar. Only the circular knob poked out, easy for Balthazar to wind up when Orton wasn't looking.

As long as he remained distracted while Balthazar wound up the watch, returning to earth would be a piece of cake.

The clouds parted to reveal an assortment of musical instruments. Golden harps and polished violins played a classical arrangement, without any input from any angels. A tall organ sat in the middle of an orchestra setup, the pipes shining and spotless.

"And this is our music room," Orton said. "The orchestra doesn't meet today, unfortunately. But perhaps we can watch their next concert together. They make the most beautiful music. And that's not even getting into the stuff they can do with the choir! Trust me, we sing more than 'hallelujah' here. Be rather boring to sing one word over and over."

Balthazar's hand dropped back to his side, a little too quickly. Darn it, he needed to be more discreet. "Um, good to know," Balthazar said awkwardly. "So what kind of classical compositions do you perform? Strauss? Bach?"

Orton plucked a violin from the air, running a bow across it in one fluid motion. "We choose the best from all kinds of genres, but sometimes they feature an original piece written by an angel."

The watch was halfway wound. He just needed a little more time.

"Perhaps the halo fitting can wait until later," Orton mused. "There's a meteor shower in a bit. There'll be quite the crowd. Our little tour should end in a bang, don't you think?"

"It'll end all right," Balthazar muttered, then realized he'd spoken out loud. Orton stared at him. "That sounds grand. How hospitable of you. Very hospitable."

While Orton gave little details about the clouds that formed heaven's carpet ("And that's where Lucy spilled her double white chocolate latte in '91. Forgive us. The cleaning crew is rather lax up here".), Balthazar wound up the dial.

The ticks were perfectly synchronized to his heartbeat. Did angels have heartbeats? If so, he could feel it racing as he grew closer to his goal. He was going to save the world. He could do it.

Mr. Block would not see him coming. As far as he knew, he was dead. Dead men tell no tales. The old adage said nothing about dead men coming back to life though.

"And here we are!" Orton sat on a cloud, patting the spot next to him. They had reached the end of this cloud formation. The stars twinkled more brightly up here than they did on earth. The night sky stretched across the horizon, several smaller clouds at the mercy of the night breeze. Angels congregated on the clouds below, making polite small talk as they waited for the show.

Almost there.

"You've been quiet," Orton said. "I know this is a big leap, but you don't have to worry about Earth up here. No more duties, no sense of time, no worries, wait, what do you have in your vest?"

It didn't matter anymore. He was ready.

"Lovely tour, but I should be going now," Balthazar stood up, twisting the dial one final time. The watch opened, the gears audibly whirring to life.

Whirring him back to life.

"Going where?" Orton asked. His eyes widened as it dawned on him. "No, you don't understand! You mustn't wind that watch!"

"I can't possibly save the world up here," Balthazar replied. The clock face glowed, releasing an explosion of light.

"BALTHAZAR!" Orton screeched in horror as the cottony fluff vanished beneath Balthazar's feet, sending him free-falling through a tunnel of clouds.

He twisted around in mid-air to see a small hole above him, the light dimming as he fell further away.

A faraway voice echoed from the light.

 _You can never come back..._

* * *

 _Sign up for a free tour of heaven given by Orton! Please note that all trips are one way and heaven will not be responsible for your life clock should you steal it and return to earth._


	5. Reunion

_And hiatus is over! Thanks for being patient everyone! Missing Milo was great! I had to tweak this chapter a little because I think my original plan casted Vinnie to the wayside._

 _Ch 5- Reunion_

* * *

"-can't let him go anywhere by himself. You were assigned a fool for a partner, Dakota," a female voice quipped from somewhere.

A fool? Who was she calling a fool? Balthazar opened his mouth for a scathing retort, but something caught in his throat. He gagged on it, the taste of salt filling his mouth and overpowering his other senses.

"He's coming to!" a familiar voice cried out. "Make sure he gets all that water out!"

Balthazar coughed as someone roughly pushed him into a sitting position, one hand clamping firmly on a shoulder to keep him still, then began roughly thumping his back. Water splattered everywhere, though it didn't matter if he got it on his clothes. They were soaked through completely, weighing him down and making it hard to move.

His eyes fluttered open, his vision hazy and unfocused. A red and yellow blur moved in his peripheral vision, slowly approaching him. Balthazar flinched and instinctively moved back, only to bump into what felt like a broad chest. The blur paused in front of him, then suddenly two warm arms pulled him into an embrace.

He'd never registered how cold it was until he could feel the contrast against this body. Shivering, Balthazar burrowed deeper. His brain screamed at him to stop acting like a child seeking their mother. Professionals didn't behave like this.

But he was cold. And this was warm. Even if warm meant smelling peanut butter breath. It was a strange, but not unpleasant, change of pace from the salty scent of the ocean.

"I thought you were dead," a raspy voice whispered, so soft Balthazar almost didn't hear it.

"Sorry," Balthazar choked. "For making you worry."

"We need to talk. Later," Vinnie said. "But first, you need to get out of those clothes. Can you stand?"

Balthazar struggled to push himself up, then shook his head. "Savannah's getting the limo seat to extend out here so we don't have to ruin our clothes dragging you in," someone said curtly.

"Brick?" Balthazar asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Brick replied. "You're lucky we had the proper equipment to drag you out of the bay."

"Everything is a little blurry," Balthazar complained.

Vinnie tightened his hold, his fingers massaging Balthazar's back gently. All the tension he carried in his shoulders dissipated. "You lost your glasses and hat out there. We'll grab your spare from the apartment."

"The limo seat is ready. We'll have to help him on," Brick announced. His grip on Balthazar's arm wasn't nearly as gentle as Vinnie's, and he hissed in pain. After what felt like an eternity, they managed to drag Balthazar onto the limo seat. Balthazar gripped the cushion as the seat retracted into a proper position. There was a small thud as Vinnie clambered in.

"The red button will supply you a change of clothes and a blanket," Brick explained. "Push it once, but after that you are not to touch anything else. We'll be travelling forward to the 21st century, to your apartment. In return, we'll offer you a mission that our circumstances prevent us from handling."

"A mission?" Balthazar said, surprised that Brick and Savannah were acting oddly cordial. There was an ulterior motive somewhere.

Brick heaved a sigh. "Doesn't skip a beat, does he?"

"Afraid not," Vinnie replied. "We're ready now."

"It'll be half an hour before we get there," Brick said. "Your address, if you will."

Vinnie supplied the correct coordinates for the dingy room in the strip mall. The door locked with a small click, and Brick slid into the shotgun seat.

The limo gave a small lurch as they were pulled into an open portal. "Sweet. We're in the timestream now," Vinnie said. "When do you want those dry clothes?"

"Preferably now," Balthazar said, looking over the buttons on the control panel. Without his glasses, he couldn't tell which button was red since they were all positioned close together. He didn't want to push one and risk being flung into the timestream without an anchor.

Vinnie leaned over and pushed the button for him. A panel slid open, revealing a dress shirt and slacks. Next to the pile of clothes were a pair of shoes. "Do you mind?" Balthazar grunted as he tugged off his tailcoat.

"Right, sorry," Vinnie shifted in his seat so that his back faced Balthazar. "I know how much you like your privacy."

A flash of gold drew Balthazar's attention as he removed his vest. Curious, he grabbed it.

A pocket watch.

With a green strap.

The one he'd stolen from heaven.

Balthazar opened it. Several drops of water splashed on his pants, but it didn't matter. The fabric was soaked through anyway. The time didn't matter to him. Time streams always messed with non-digital clocks, so it was likely inaccurate.

 _You can never come back..._

Balthazar jumped, almost dropping the watch. He looked over at Vinnie, who had opened a bag of chips and was eating them three at a time. Maybe Vinnie hadn't heard that voice.

 _You can never come back..._

He snapped it shut. He didn't know if anyone else could hear the voice, but he wasn't going to risk it. Wonderful. Now he was stuck with a watch that was useless for telling time and only gave cryptic messages.

Balthazar set the watch aside while he changed clothes, glancing over at Vinnie every now and then to make sure he wasn't peeking. He was grateful that Vinnie understood his need for privacy while undressing.

Sometimes he wished that he didn't get so flustered every time he saw Vinnie change clothes. The bathroom in their tiny apartment lacked a proper place to put clean clothes while showering, and the closet was too small to do it comfortably. So Balthazar had sectioned off a corner with a curtain, stuck a chair and mirror on the inside, and used that space to change.

Vinnie never used it though, much to Balthazar's frustration.

He tucked the watch inside the dress shirt, making sure the strap was hidden completely. How Brick and Savannah had clothes in his size, he would never know. Perhaps Vinnie told them.

"I'm finished," Balthazar said. Vinnie turned around, throwing the empty chip bag on the seat next to him.

"Anything you have to say for yourself?" Vinnie asked, crossing his arms. Balthazar couldn't tell if he was angry, disappointed, or a mixture of both.

Balthazar studied the floor of the limo. Two words was all it took. It was odd. He could rant forever and a day about how he never got any recognition. But the simple things lodged in his throat, unable to come out. Maybe a change in subject was in order.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

Vinnie leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He didn't meet Balthazar's eyes. His hands curled into a ball. "You ran into Savannah in the hallway, and dropped a photo of the Golden Gate Bridge. She suspected something, and asked if I knew anything about 1962. Let me tell ya, her boots are real sharp. And I was scared. Really scared you were gonna do something rash. So I asked if we could join up to tail you. You had the Temporal Transporter, and our vehicle was in the shop, so I had no proper equipment to do it myself."

Balthazar swallowed. There was no way Savannah and Brick would offer to help without repayment of some kind.

"Then the Bureau was put on alert. A mission file was stolen, and an ion trail was traced back to 1962 within a few minutes. Then they declared you a rogue, and ordered all the agents to scour the time periods for you. We met Brick at the limo and traveled to the date on the photograph. We arrived in time to see Block and that other guy thrashing you."

Balthazar placed a hand on his back. He wasn't good at offering comfort. This was the best he could do.

"And then they dropped you. I was screaming," Vinnie whispered. "I was prepared to go after you, but Savannah knocked me down and held me there. She said one idiot was enough for her to deal with. We saw them. They killed you, Balthy. When Brick dragged you out of the ocean, you didn't...you didn't, but it was true, you didn't-"

Vinnie removed his glasses, wiping away the tears with his undershirt. "I didn't what?" Balthazar asked.

"-have a pulse," Vinnie choked, gasping for air. He still wouldn't meet Balthazar's eyes. "You were dead. Dead! Our boss killed you! I should've done better. Should've been there."

"Dakota," Balthazar intertwined his fingers with his partner's. "It wasn't your fault. I don't want to hear another word from you about that. You said that Savannah and Brick were going to offer us another mission. We can still save the world."

"Balthy, I wish I could trust you, but after that-"

Balthazar found a handkerchief in a pocket of the slacks, and gently dabbed at his eyes, tilting Vinnie's chin up. He wanted to be sure the tears were all gone. "No more crying," he said firmly. "I don't want Savannah and Brick getting onto us about making a mess in the back."

Vinnie chuckled a little at that. "They would be really mad."

The limo exited the timestream and parked in an empty space of the strip mall. Since the strip mall was closed for the night, the lot was deserted. Vinnie opened the door, stretching.

"Do you have your Transporter?" Savannah asked. She leaned against the hood of the limo casually, as if she was asking about the weather.

Balthazar rolled his eyes. She certainly cut to the chase. "No, I do not. It's probably at the bottom of the ocean now."

"Possible contamination in 1962," Savannah declared to Brick. "Make a note of that."

Brick reached inside his tuxedo, and tossed another Transporter to Balthazar. "We'll talk inside. I don't want to risk being overheard."

Vinnie had the key in his jacket pocket, thankfully. Balthazar did not want to rouse Mr. Thompson from his sleep and listen to another war story, as he did whenever he finally had the rent.

Balthazar grabbed his spare glasses off the desk and put them on, his vision clearing up. There. Much better.

"This is where you live?" Savannah asked, pointedly avoiding a discarded sock.

"Not my first choice, but it's where we were assigned," Balthazar shrugged. "Not that I'm complaining, but why did you give us this Transporter?"

"Because as a rogue agent, you need one that can't be traced," Brick said. "I have connections in the Communications Department. That's how I received that one."

"New question, if I'm rogue, then explain why you're helping us," Balthazar said. "I can't help but be suspicious."

Savannah smirked. "As elite agents, we can't take this case. You, as the bottom feeders of the Bureau, would draw less attention."

Vinnie gave his hand a squeeze before Balthazar could lose his temper. "Sounds like you're asking for a lot."

"We are," Brick pulled out a red folder, the type that was used by the Science and Tech teams. "This is a profile for the Jinx. You can look at all the tests and missions done on him on your own time, but we're here to give you a brief rundown."

Balthazar took the folder and opened it. A photograph of a young boy clutching a backpack was splattered across the first page, along with a bolded title, 'Murphy's Law: Causes and Prevention.'"

"Aw, that kid's pretty cute," Vinnie commented.

"Don't be fooled by his innocent demeanor," Savannah warned. "He was stolen from the hospital shortly after birth and has resided in HQ for his entire life. Block believed that the Jinx′s condition, EHML, or Extreme Hereditary Murphy's Law, could put the world in danger and ordered him locked away. The boy is the indirect reason so many scientists were taken to the infirmary."

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "And where do we factor in?"

"Get the kid out of there," Brick replied. "Given that Block almost murdered you with the claim of you bringing down the agency with your incompetence, and how he ordered the kid's isolation with the exception of certain missions, we believe he's up to something. Our job is to investigate him, yours is to look after the kid."

"And why do we get stuck with the nannying job?" Balthazar complained.

Vinnie held up his hands to placate him. "Think about it. We're saving the world from Mr. Block. And this is a two part job."

He had a point. They wouldn't be able to investigate a superior and look after a child at the same time.

"Very well. Given my new status as a rogue, however, we can't exactly show up at HQ without being noticed," Balthazar said.

"For once, you're correct," Savannah said. "But tomorrow at three in the afternoon, the Science and Tech Department will be conducting an experiment in 1921. They'll be replicating the Little Albert experiment on the Jinx, but presumably with more dangerous stimuli. Since there won't be agents there, it would be the perfect opportunity to escape with him."

That poor child had been caught in the crossfire. Balthazar supposed he didn't have to start with a grand accomplishment. Saving a child was the first step to the bigger picture.

Saving the world.

"They might as well declare me an accomplice," Vinnie declared. "We're partners, Balthy. And I promise I'll have your back this time."

It wasn't Vinnie's fault though. Balthazar didn't understand why Vinnie insisted on blaming himself so much.

"We'll do it," Balthazar said, offering a hand to Brick. They shook firmly.

"Then get some sleep, boys," Savannah said as she and Brick exited the apartment. "You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."


	6. Road to Madness

_Okay, okay, I know y'all are screaming for a certain someone but after several plot heavy chapters I gotta slow down a bit. Well this really isn't filler but at the same time there's less exposition._

 _Ch 6- Road to Madness_

* * *

Balthazar didn't sleep well last night. He'd spent it tossing and turning, throwing off the thin blanket he and Vinnie shared, only to roll back under it in a few minutes. It was the watch. It had to be. It ticked loudly, overpowering the sound of the leaky kitchen faucet and Vinnie's snores.

It hadn't been this loud when he was in the limo. Unless the voice inside counted...

That was ridiculous. Clocks don't talk. It was a figment of his imagination. Yes, just a product of a paranoid mind.

He was losing it. Vinnie stared at his partner in disbelief. "But you don't even like coffee."

"Now's not the time to question me, Dakota. There are...extraordinary circumstances," Balthazar said, stabbing a grape so harshly with a fork that it skidded across the table onto Vinnie's plate.

"I'll say. There's still plenty of jasmine tea packets if you change your mind." Vinnie poured two cups of steaming hot coffee, setting them on the table. Balthazar immediately tried to take a drink, flinching when the scalding liquid spread bitterly across his tongue.

Balthazar glared at his mug, which mocked him with a child's doodle of a sun and rainbow. "This mug is entirely too cheery," Balthazar muttered, dumping the contents down the kitchen sink.

"We can't all be sourpusses," Vinnie shrugged, still polishing off his scrambled eggs. "And I coulda drunk that for you if you didn't want it."

"The caffeine isn't good for either of us," Balthazar growled, opening the Jinx's folder to a random page.

 _The Jinx is dangerous. His ancestors have caused many of history's greatest calamities: the Great Fire of London, the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, and the Hindenburg Disaster to name a few. I theorize that if we track down the members of the Murphy family throughout the timestream and remove them, we can avert these tragedies._

Balthazar flipped to a different page. That theory wouldn't get off the ground. He doubted the Bureau had the resources to track down every person with the surname 'Murphy' throughout the time-space continuum.

 _Experiment #65:_ _Gauging Reactions to Disaster_

 _For this experiment, we have selected the 14th century, specifically the year 1348. It is important to note that everybody from the Bureau of Time Travel involved, including the Jinx, have been vaccinated against the bubonic plague as a precaution. In addition, we are all wearing special full bodysuits that bacteria cannot penetrate. These will appear to be peasant clothing to outsiders in order to deflect attention._

 _We will be monitoring the Jinx's reactions to the scene around him as the Black Death haunts a small Italian town._

 _Hour 1: A plague doctor has dropped several flowers after making a house call. The Jinx wants to gather them, but we remind him that nothing is to be touched. He's disappointed that the doctor doesn't have his flowers. A gust of wind has blown the flowers out of his hand. A goat has scarfed them down in the middle of the street. A horse and his rider have passed by, and the goat spooks the horse, making the equine rear up and throw his rider to the ground. The man has a broken arm now._

 _Hour 2: We pass a woman in the beginning stages of the disease, clutching the corpse of a young child whose skin is blackened and blotched. She screams incoherently at the man who is trying to persuade her to add the child to a carriage full of many other corpses, and the Jinx is visibly uncomfortable._

 _Hour 3: It appears that Murphy's Law flares up when the Jinx experiences certain emotions. Further testing needed to determine if new theory is true. We will leave the time period shortly and return to HQ._

Balthazar didn't bother reading the conclusion of it. The experiment was complete rubbish anyway. By the standards of the 21st century, it was unethical to deliberately expose a test subject to distressing material.

He closed the folder and set it in the middle of the table, moving to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink that had built up over the past few days.

Perhaps busying himself with chores for the next two hours before they left would help keep him awake and occupy his mind.

* * *

Turned out that even dusting the counter, doing laundry, and cleaning the shower wasn't enough to stop the intrusive thoughts. He worried about the watch. He fretted about the mission. He wondered if Vinnie continued to blame himself.

"Balthy! I'm ready to go!" Vinnie yelled. "I just-ow, my elbow, gotta get this shoe on. I'm shooing it on. Get it? Cause it's a shoe, and I need to put it on and-"

Balthazar sighed. Was Vinnie at least trying with his awful puns these days? He'd heard better jokes from amateur stand-up comedians at a cheap pub.

"I'm coming!" he called. He was back in his regular outfit, freshly washed that morning. Though he would likely have to change his style later to avoid recognition from any agents that might be searching for him.

He fingered the watch, debating if he should leave it in the room. A small voice in the back of his head warned him not to lose the watch. Not to let it leave his sight. The consequences would be dire.

He left the watch on.

Vinnie had been waiting for him by the couch. He adjusted his collar and bow tie, frowning. Balthazar had explained to him that his tracksuit would draw attention from the locals of that time period, and they could possibly be tailed by the Bureau if they saw something out of place.

"So explain how men in the early 20th century dealt with the heat in these things," Vinnie complained. "Cause I haven't worn something this fancy since my great-grandfather's funeral."

Balthazar placed the derby hat over Vinnie's head and smoothed out the wrinkles of the suit. "Why don't you ask them?" he suggested, inputting the coordinates in the Transporter.

A portal materialized, a long street lined with houses on the other side. They stepped through quickly, checking their surroundings to make sure nobody saw them. There were several young boys having a play fight with long sticks, but they were too engrossed in their game to pay attention to Balthazar and Vinnie.

"Of course it wouldn't drop us off directly in front of the building they're at," Balthazar muttered. "They're conducting the experiment in this town's abandoned asylum. Be prepared to ask the locals for directions, Dakota. We are not wandering around this place like a pair of hoodlums."

"Or we could just use that," Vinnie pointed to a comically oversized billboard behind a row of houses.

Balthazar gave him an unimpressed look. "An entirely too saccharine and sugarcoated advertisement for the American Dream. Really?"

"No, below that! Directions to the asylum are below that ad," Vinnie said. "As well as directions to a diner. Maybe we could go there before we return to the 21st century."

"Head three miles straight down Cambridge, turn right on Windbrook and go straight one and a half miles, and the asylum will be at the top of Jules' Hill," Balthazar copied the directions onto a sheet of paper, folding it neatly and stuffing it in a lapel. "Seeing that we cannot walk that far and make it in time, we shall have to steal a car."

Just as he was wondering how they could pull that off, a black buggy turned from the main road into the neighborhood, then parked on the left side of the street. Balthazar straightened his tie and walked up to the car as the driver's door opened, a man in a business suit stepping out. Upon seeing Balthazar and Vinnie, he frowned.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you around before," the man said. "Who are you?"

"Ah yes, we are representatives from a car manufacturing plant," Balthazar lied, tipping his hat and shaking the man's hand, though he still didn't look convinced. Balthazar coughed to get Vinnie to pick up the elaborate fabrication.

"Oh, oh, gotcha," Vinnie winked. "That's a nice car ya got, but we're gonna have to do an inspection to make sure everything's running smoothly. You know how corporates are. Don't wanna lose money over a recall."

"I just bought this car two weeks ago, it doesn't need an inspection-"

Balthazar caught the driver's door to peer inside before the man slammed it shut. The tank was full. Good. They wouldn't have to waste time with the upkeep of the car.

Vinnie walked around the buggy to the passenger's side. "Nicest bumper I've ever seen. The workers did a good job with this one."

"Get away from my buggy now!" the man demanded, shoving his face close to Balthazar's. "Who the hell are you people?"

Balthazar grabbed his shoulders and twisted the man around, shoving one arm across his neck and pressing down against his throat. He could tell this man had likely never been in a fight in his entire life. In his surprise, he could only flail his legs helplessly as he was overpowered. "I shall let you go in a bit, but business first," Balthazar whispered.

The man gurgled pathetically, nodding.

"Your keys."

He offered no resistance, a trembling hand reaching inside his pocket and drawing out the keys. Balthazar grabbed it and released his hold. The man dropped to his knees, gasping for air.

"Thank you for your time, sir," Balthazar said pleasantly, hopping into the driver's seat. He plugged the keys into the ignition and started the buggy, leaving the poor man eating dust within seconds.

"That's strange," Vinnie commented. "Usually the corporate cover story works."

Balthazar pulled the directions and the Transporter out and tossed them into Vinnie's lap. "Focus, Dakota," he said. "Which direction is Windbrook in?"

"Three miles down Cambridge," Vinnie replied.

"I know it's three miles down Cambridge," Balthazar snapped. "Am I supposed to turn right or left on Cambridge? That blasted sign didn't mention that part."

Vinnie shrugged. "Just pick a direction. You got a fifty-fifty shot at picking the correct one."

"We will be wasting precious time if I pick the wrong one!" Balthazar complained. "And we need to get there as quickly as possible, because I don't want to be tailed by any cops. I knew I should've knocked that gentleman unconscious. Isn't there a GPS function on the Transporters?"

"Okay, okay, calm down. FYI, that feature doesn't work," Vinnie said, holding up the Transporter, which displayed an error screen. "Satellites haven't been invented yet. And neither have cake pops, which I've been craving lately. It's both a cake and a lollipop in one. Seriously, whoever invented those was a genius."

"Fortunately for you, we haven't gone back far enough to avoid the American staple of hamburgers and fries," Balthazar muttered. "Approaching Cambridge. I'm going right."

"Personally I would've used the maze approach and stuck to the left wall," Vinnie said. "But, hey. Whatever floats your boat. Or car in this case."

"I'm sticking to the right lane," Balthazar said. "Keep an eye out for Windbrook and the police."

Vinnie nodded and rolled down the window, letting his arm hang out. Five minutes later, he tapped on Balthazar's arm. "There's a cop. But his light isn't on."

Balthazar checked the side mirror, and sure enough, there was a cop behind them. "Okay, so there's a cop," Balthazar nervously adjusted his collar. "No big deal. He's probably just out on patrol. Not gonna arrest us for carjacking or anything."

He sped up slightly, though he was still within the speed limit. His foot was itching to push down on the pedal and try to lose the cop, but he had enough restraint. It wouldn't last long.

He was not going to be arrested again on a mission.

A car zoomed by on the left lane, startling Balthazar out of his thoughts. They were driving well over the speed limit.

The police car's lights flashed, a loud alarm piercing the air.

"Uh, maybe you should hit the gas," Vinnie suggested. "Getting kinda hot in here..."

Then the police car pulled into the left lane in pursuit of the speeding driver, leaving Balthazar and Vinnie behind.

They breathed a sigh of relief.

"So I've never seen such a huge cop out before," Vinnie said, grinning.

Balthazar groaned. "No bad puns when I'm driving, Dakota. I always feel the urge to let you walk to our destination afterwards."

Vinnie smirked, unapologetic for his pun. "Oh, we made it to Windbrook after all! Turn right here and it will be another-uh, let me check the paper real quick-one and a half miles to Jules' Hill."

Balthazar turned right. The road contained more dirt and gravel than the previous did, so the ride was more bumpy. The buggy held up rather well. Then again, they'd lucked out and managed to steal a car in brand new condition.

"There's Jules' Hill!" Vinnie exclaimed. "And I can see the abandoned asylum from here. Oh wow. I can see all the broken building materials too."

"They don't call it abandoned without a good reason," Balthazar said, his mind wandering to the horrible treatment of patients in asylums he'd read about. Where people like the Jinx were just another statistic. A relic of the past.

Or perhaps, the technology had evolved. The methods had not.

Balthazar parked the car next to the rusted, iron gate. They climbed out of the car, standing back to survey the massive, broken down building. A metal sign had been torn off the top, lying in a massive pile of dead leaves.

Vinnie reached out to touch the gate, and the doors fell apart with a loud crash, now a broken heap.

"The Charles Jules Asylum," Balthazar murmured. "We're here."


	7. Enter the Jinx

_Bon appetite!_

 _Ch 7- Enter the Jinx_

* * *

"So I heard these sorts of buildings are haunted," Vinnie whispered. "The spirits of patients haunting the grounds on which they died, and they've come to take revenge on the living."

Balthazar's hand curled around his watch in a futile attempt to still the hands from ticking. "Merely ghost stories made up to gain notoriety," he whispered. "Talk only when you must. We cannot alert the Bureau's scientists of our whereabouts."

Vinnie nodded.

They passed what appeared to be the remains of a lobby. Strips of paint were peeling off the walls, lying in flakes all over the gray, hard floor. A front desk had been overturned, its drawers broken and one front leg missing. Crumpled papers were scattered everywhere, from patient's documents, to finances, to a discarded telegram.

After a silent debate over which direction they should take, they continued down the left corridor, passing by the wooden doors which once served as the patients' cells. Many of them creaked on their broken hinges, and several slabs of wood had been torn off, allowing them a peek into the rooms.

One had tally marks scratched into the wall. Another had a dried splatter of blood near the bed. Balthazar stopped looking once he caught a glimpse of a handmade doll in the fifth cell. He quickened his pace, his footsteps echoing off the walls.

If it weren't for Vinnie's eyes flickering from wall to wall, Balthazar would've thought his partner wasn't affected by the dreary atmosphere of this horrible place.

There was a thud from above them, followed by several voices talking in excitement.

"Pairing the rat with a simulation of a thunderstorm was a brilliant choice."

"This is Phase 1. We will increase the danger level as the experiment continues. Henry and Lawson, I want you to continue setting up the robotic mugger for Phase 3."

They needed to get the Jinx out of there before they increased the danger level. Not caring if their footsteps could be heard, Balthazar and Vinnie rushed up the narrow stairwell, stopping when they reached a door with a small window set in the middle.

"So what's the plan?" Vinnie whispered.

"Use the robot to our advantage," Balthazar replied. "But first we knock out the scientists." He slipped on his brass knuckles. Vinnie pulled out a metal pipe from his jacket. "Wait, where did you get the pipe?"

Vinnie jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "There's broken pipes everywhere. I just picked it up from the ground."

"A weapon is a weapon," Balthazar sighed. "Just wash your hands before you eat. This place is crawling with bacteria, and I don't want to know where that's been. Ready?"

Vinnie brandished the pipe over his head, nodding. Balthazar counted to three with his fingers, then kicked the door open. The scientists stared at them in surprise, one of them dropping the tools he was using to fix the robot.

"You take the one with that ridiculous mullet," Balthazar said, his hands curling into fists. "I'll handle the one with glasses."

"Hey! My mullet isn't ridiculous!"

His partner gave him an odd look. "I kinda agree with him on that one, Henry."

"Nobody asked for your opinion, Lawson!" Henry charged at Balthazar, offended by the comment, but Vinnie tripped him with the pipe, and he fell on his face.

Lawson grabbed a wrench from his toolkit, taking a battle-ready position. His stance was strong, but his abdomen was completely unprotected. Lawson made the first move, aiming the wrench at Balthazar's head.

Balthazar sidestepped, the wrench narrowly missing his head. Then he grabbed Lawson's arm and twisted it. He cried out in pain, dropping his weapon, which Balthazar kicked away. It skidded behind a machine, out of sight.

Next to them, Henry and Vinnie were wrestling on the ground without regard to their surroundings, almost tripping Balthazar while he was trying to find an opening for his own battle. They had each landed a few good punches. One of Vinnie's lens was missing, and his derby hat had been knocked off, smashed into a black heap on the floor.

A sharp pain shot through his leg, and he hissed in pain when he tried to put his weight on it. Lawson had an excellent kick, he had to admit. Balthazar dodged the next kick, managing to drive his fist into Lawson's nose, breaking it.

Lawson gasped and held a sleeve to his nose as he attempted to stem the flow of blood. While he was distracted, Balthazar dealt a solid blow to Lawson's abdomen, driving the wind out of him. He fell back, his head smacking the floor with a dull thud.

Balthazar glanced over to Vinnie, who was on his knees, panting heavily. Henry was out cold too, a pipe laying next to his head. "Ugh, I should really...take your advice...go to the gym...and get breadsticks."

While Vinnie recovered his breath, Balthazar found a long coil of rope and tied Henry and Lawson up, double knotting the rope tightly. Then he looked over the robotic mugger, opening the panel on its chest to find an on switch. He flipped it, and the eyes lit up, the body giving a shudder as it came to life.

The robot resembled a stereotypical robber, covered head to toe in black clothing over synthetic skin. Its eyes glowed white, a sharp contrast to its dark ski mask. "Hand over all your valuables," it intoned. A laser activated, bathing the entire room in a red light as it scanned.

"Valuables detected. A watch and gold chain. I will take them now," the robot said as a compartment opened, revealing several weapons. "Picking weapon. Picking weapon. Standby."

Balthazar clutched his watch protectively. "Dakota, we cannot let this heathen take my watch!"

"And I won't let it take my gold chain!" Vinnie retorted. "It was a reward from the mayor of a small town for preventing the Mississippi Purchase!"

"Someday I'd like to hear the full story," Balthazar said. "But for now, we shall lead the robot to where the other scientists are and cause mass chaos in the observation area. Then we shall take the Jinx and hightail it back to the 21st century."

"Ray gun selected. Now cocking at victim."

Balthazar flung the door open to the other room, where a dozen scientists glanced up from their observation sheets as he ducked behind a panel as a laser fired over his head. There was an entire room below them, surrounded by glass on all sides. There was a boy clutching an umbrella in the center, and he jumped at an invisible force.

Vinnie dropped to his knees next to him. While the scientists flung up their papers and panicked as the robot fired its laser guns all over the place, Balthazar and Vinnie crawled to a trapdoor that led directly to the simulation room below.

"Initiating sleeping gas sequence." The robot held up an arm, a sickly green gas spewing out. Balthazar waved for Vinnie to go first, then climbed down after him, shutting the trapdoor above him so the gas didn't escape the room. Balthazar could hear the scientists coughing as they passed out.

Balthazar reached the bottom of the stairs, taking deep breaths to bring his heart rate back to normal. "I thought they were simulating a thunderstorm," Balthazar said. "This is just a white room."

"I don't think is any normal simulation," Vinnie said. "You know how the Bureau uses that fear serum thingy to interrogate criminals?"

"That's preposterous," Balthazar scoffed, though his words rang hollow in his ears. A week ago, he would have dismissed the notion of the Bureau injecting serums on anyone other than criminals. Now, he wasn't so sure.

The fear serum was a tool of torture. And here the Science and Tech Department was using it on a child in a more dangerous version of one of the most infamous psychology experiments of all time.

With the exception of a single rat scurrying around, the room was white and clean. It was strange to think that this area was part of an abandoned asylum.

The boy in the center was dressed in an old T-shirt and shorts, several bruises mottling the skin on his arms and face. The umbrella in his hands broke at the handle and fell uselessly to the ground. He pulled his backpack over his head to shield himself, his eyes widening when he saw Balthazar and Vinnie approaching him.

Vinnie knelt down to his level. "My name is Vinnie Dakota, and over there is my partner Balthazar Cavendish." Balthazar tipped his hat as a greeting. "What's your name, kid?"

"The Jinx," he replied, yelping. "This is some thunderstorm. I'm sorry that my umbrella broke. Cause I don't want you guys getting drenched."

"But there isn't a thunderstorm," Balthazar said. "They gave you a serum that's making you hallucinate one."

"No, they aren't!" The Jinx cried. "I'm soaked. You're soaked. We can't take shelter. It's just a huge field and tree. There's nowhere to take shelter."

Balthazar's heart clenched, and he wasn't sure why. Then he saw the tears rolling down the boy's face. The child probably couldn't tell the difference between his tears and the hallucinated rain.

"I know a place we can take shelter," Vinnie said. "But you're gonna have to trust us, kid."

"Okay," the Jinx nodded, his head snapping up toward the ceiling. "The thunder's getting louder."

"I don't think that was thunder," Balthazar pointed to a large crack in the glass, which broke when the robotic mugger jumped from through the screen. It had a large bag slung over its shoulder, the objects inside clinking together with the slightest movement.

"The watch and gold chain," the robot said. "Do not resist."

Vinnie stepped in front of the Jinx, holding an arm out in front of him. "Stay behind me, kid. This robot's dangerous." He dug into his jacket, tossing the Temporal Transporter to Balthazar. "We gotta run back to the 21st century now!"

Balthazar ducked a swing from the robot and backed up to the wall. "Dakota, cover me! I can't fight and calibrate this thing at the same time!"

"I'm covering the kid!" Vinnie protested.

"Here, use this!" the Jinx exclaimed, pulling a hammer out of his backpack and handing it to Vinnie.

Balthazar set the time for the 21st century, while Vinnie bashed in the eyes of the robot, exposing several loose wires. The robot sparked, dropping the bag, which Vinnie snatched up.

"The portal's open!" Balthazar called. "Children first!" Vinnie pushed the boy towards Balthazar, then swung the bag at the robot, knocking it against the wall.

"Are we heading to shelter now?" the child asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Balthazar nodded. "Step up, be careful now. Okay, just stay there." Once the Jinx was on the other side of the portal, Balthazar motioned for Vinnie to step through next. "We'll take the bag too. There might be something useful in there."

Tossing the bag to the other side, Balthazar climbed over and closed the portal, the white room disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Is that our shelter? Cool! Are we sleeping in the hay? Are there horses? Could we stay long enough for me to pet a horse? I've never petted a horse before," the Jinx grinned as he bounced from toe to toe in excitement.

"How long does the serum take to run its course?" Balthazar whispered.

"Not long," Vinnie replied. "They didn't give him a large dose. That's probably why he was still able to see and hear us and the robot. Some people can't interact with the real world after being injected with one of those things. Ugh, just thinking about it gives me the willies. Anyway, he should be fine by morning."

Balthazar sighed. "That's a relief. At least there's the apartment. We'll figure something out in the morning. Find the kid somewhere nice probably."

"I was thinking we could pick a name for the kid," Vinnie said, gently leading the Jinx up the stairs to the apartment. The boy's eyes were drooping, and he let out a wide yawn. "He doesn't seem to have one."

"Rather unfortunate," Balthazar said, digging in his pocket for his keys. When he put the key in the lock, the door broke off its hinges and fell forward. Groaning at the thought of having to put in a replacement, Balthazar quickly ushered them inside. Vinnie helped the boy lay down on the couch, covering him with a blanket. He was out instantly.

Balthazar set the bag in the kitchen. He was too exhausted to start looking through the contents.

"I can get out of the suit!" Vinnie cheered, throwing off his dress shirt and pants.

Balthazar rolled his eyes, folding the clothes neatly and storing it inside the dresser. "At least wear shorts to bed. We have a guest." He changed into his pajamas behind the curtain.

When he came out, Vinnie was already lying on the bed. Balthazar crawled under the covers, setting his glasses and watch on the nightstand.

Even after he turned off the light, he could see Vinnie's infuriating smirk. "What?" Balthazar growled.

"You care for the kid a little," Vinnie said. "I can tell. More than me being shirtless right now."

"One more smart remark and you're sleeping on the couch," Balthazar grumbled. It didn't matter if he cared for the kid. It was just their part of the mission.

"But the kid's on the couch," Vinnie yawned.

"The floor then," Balthazar mumbled, turning over. He couldn't care less right now. He just wanted his rest.


	8. A New Name

_Thanks for being patient everyone. I was playing catch up on MLP: FIM._

 _Ch 8- A New Name_

The child was still asleep. The serum must have been more taxing on his body than Balthazar and Vinnie realized. Vinnie had prepared an extra plate of breakfast, but now it would need to be warmed up. For someone who had been a science experiment his entire life, the kid was unusually trusting.

Balthazar made a mental note to call Brick and Savannah and ask them for an update on their investigation. And if they knew a safe place for a young boy away from the prying eyes of the Bureau.

"Dakota, do you think it's all right to wake him up now?" Balthazar asked, his hand hovering uncertainly over the child's shoulder. "I'd prefer that he doesn't sleep all morning." He moved the backpack aside so he wouldn't trip over it, then his curiosity got the better of him. Opening the flap, he found all sorts of objects in the Jinx's backpack. Some weren't out of the ordinary, a plastic bag containing a few nuts, or a small paperback book. Then he found an anchor and three hedge trimmers.

Hedge trimmers could fit in some backpacks, but most people didn't keep one on hand. The anchor, however, couldn't be explained. Balthazar concluded that the backpack was invented at the Bureau. There was no other explanation for how it could hold an anchor and the child had no issue carrying it around. He closed the backpack and moved it aside.

Vinnie peeked in from the kitchen. "Okay, go ahead and wake him up. And ask him if he wants milk or OJ. It's the cooler way to say orange juice."

Balthazar nodded, shaking the Jinx's shoulder gently. "It's ten in the morning," he said softly. "It's imperative that you eat to keep your strength up."

The Jinx yawned, pushing himself up. "Morning. Do I get to pet a horse now? Wait..." Rubbing his eyes, he glanced around in confusion. "But the barn! And, and the hay! I thought I was gonna have to pick hay off my clothes for sure this morning!"

"Yes, well," Balthazar cleared his throat. "Bales of hay are rather ill-suited for an apartment. What you experienced last night was a hallucination brought about by fear serum. We shall be keeping you here for the day to make sure the serum has run its course. However, I expect you to be ready for a trip to the store tomorrow so that we can buy you some clothes."

"Oh, wow," the child murmured, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his head. "I can't believe I thought that was real. I still think it's real." He took a deep, shuddering breath.

Balthazar patted his back. "Let's get some food into you now. Do you prefer milk or orange juice? I think you'll quite enjoy Dakota's cooking."

"Orange juice is fine, thanks," he replied.

"He wants orange juice!" Balthazar shouted.

"One glass of OJ coming right up!"

He helped the child off the couch, realizing that he was still in the same clothes from yesterday. A couch leg snapped off, and a loose spring caused one of the cushions fly out and smack Balthazar in the face. He coughed indignantly, throwing the cushion back in its proper place.

"Sorry!" the child yelped. "I didn't mean for Murphy's Law to cause you any trouble." He hesitantly sat down at the table, taking a sip of his juice. The microwave beeped, and Vinnie pulled out a plate of eggs and bacon, taking a piece of toast out from the toaster and setting it all in front of their guest.

"This is the second time I've heard about this Murphy's Law. What exactly makes it so dangerous?" Balthazar asked, sitting down on the seat next to him.

Vinnie lightly smacked him in the shoulder. "Any questions you have can wait until after he's finished. Look at the kid, he's practically a skeleton!"

His shirt did look rather large on him. And those bruises would probably be stinging too. But it was nothing a little ointment couldn't fix.

"No a skeleum," the child said through a mouthful of bacon.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Balthazar chided. "Wonderful. He's got your eating habits."

Were they denying him food at the Bureau? That would explain why he was so thin...

But some children were naturally thin. Maybe it wasn't anything to worry about.

He polished everything, his mouth surrounded by crumbs. "That was the best breakfast ever!" he exclaimed.

"Wipe your face and brush your teeth," Balthazar said. "The bathroom is the first door on the right. And after this, we're giving you an proper name. It would be quite rude of us to call you 'child' or 'the Jinx' all the time."

"That's really nice, but I wouldn't even know what to call myself!" He headed to the bathroom, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Vinnie began washing the dishes, humming thoughtfully. "There's gotta be something we can work off," he said. "I know! Let's name him Elvis!"

"Elvis," Balthazar scoffed.

"What?" Vinnie asked innocently. "Okay, well, Frank or Ringo work too. Though he doesn't really look like a Frank now that I think about it."

"You are not naming him after musicians from decades long ago!" Balthazar complained.

Vinnie shrugged. "It wasn't that long ago. So what would you name the kid, since you kindly shot down my suggestions?"

"Something respectable. Such as Bartholomew or Sebastian," Balthazar replied. Vinnie snickered. "What? They're perfectly good names!"

"We already have one long name in this room that begins with 'ba' and nobody wants to name their kid Sebastian unless they want him to grow up to be a butler," Vinnie said. "Besides, they're completely outdated."

Before Balthazar could make a comeback, there was a loud crash from the bathroom. He rushed to the bathroom, knocking on the door. "Are you all right?" he called.

"I'm fine! The bar holding up the shower curtain broke and I fell trying to fix it! I think I got it now!" There was a clang of metal against the tile. "Never mind."

"Would it be all right to come in so I can look at it myself?" Balthazar asked. "You're going to hurt yourself if you try putting up the bar on your own."

"Sure, one sec!" There was another crash. "Whoops..."

He opened the door, and Balthazar was relieved to find the sink and toilet in one piece. However, the shelf that held their shampoo bottles had toppled over, scattering the supplies around the toilet. It split down the middle when he picked it up.

The child was staring at a spot on the wall, refusing to look at Balthazar. Vinnie leaned against the door, placing a comforting hand on the child's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. This place is falling apart on us anyway. Besides, Balthazar was always saying something about replacing that shelf. Guess you helped remind him."

"Fine. I think we have some spare wood in storage," Balthazar said, heaving the bar over his head and putting it in its proper place. "Ah, there we are. Easily fixable. Meet us at the table when you're done. Since Dakota and I can't agree on a name, it would only be right to let you decide what to call yourself."

The Jinx nodded. Balthazar and Vinnie left him to his own devices, closing the bathroom door behind them.

"I can't believe you actually finished a mission," a feminine voice said. They turned around to find Savannah smirking at them. "Congratulations on your adoption, by the way."

"Thanks!" Vinnie exclaimed. "Sorry about the apartment. We weren't expecting company."

Balthazar crossed his arms. "How did you get in here? And where's Brick?"

"Whoa," Savannah studied her nails. "Direct. Didn't expect that either. To answer your first question, your front door is broken. Brick is...incapacitated at the moment."

"Oh. Did he get injured when you were investigating the Bureau?" Vinnie asked. "Because that guy is built like...well, a brick."

She shook her head. "No. Our first investigation went smoothly. We went to a bar afterwards and Brick had a little too much to drink. Don't ever be around him when he's on a hangover. He gets...needy. But I digress. I've come to warn you that agents of all ranks will be hunting you down. Your stunt at the asylum has propelled you to the top of the Bureau's Most Wanted. They'll be wanting to cash in on the hefty reward."

"But how do they know we took him?" Balthazar growled.

"Henry and Lawson blabbed," Savannah said. "Honestly. You never bothered to conceal your identity. You were easily recognized. The camera feed from the broken robot confirmed their story."

He had overlooked the important details.

Again.

When they went shopping tomorrow, they would need a lot of clothes. While Balthazar could overlook how his green formal suit was outdated in the 21st century, it was clear that he would need to change his style. They would all need to change their style to avoid capture.

He didn't wish interrogation on his worst enemy, much less a child.

"I suggest you start searching for other places you can stay," Savannah said. "They're eventually going to find you here. But I should get going now. I promised Brick I would pick up some medicine. We'll keep you updated. Goodbye."

And she was gone.

Balthazar glanced at the broken front door. "I hate to agree, but she has a point. It would be disastrous if an agent could just walk through there. We wouldn't be able to hop through a portal in time. Perhaps we can add scouting out alternate places to stay to our to-do list tomorrow."

"I know some great restaurants that have posh lobbies we could sleep in. Or heck, even in the main dining area after hours," Vinnie said. "And we wouldn't have to worry about food either."

Balthazar nodded. "While I would normally be cursing your appetite, a restaurant wouldn't come to mind for any of our potential captors as a place of rest. Staying at a motel would be too obvious, and we wouldn't have enough money for the long term. Perhaps schools would be a good option too. Of course, we'd have to be careful staying at all these public establishments so we don't get caught by the police or employees."

"I'm done!" the Jinx yelled. His cowlick was flopped over his face, still sopping wet. "And your showerhead only fell twice! Don't worry, I didn't break it."

He was still wearing those dull clothes from the Bureau. "Hey, kid. How about for the rest of the day you take one of my undershirts?" Vinnie asked. "You were sleeping in that last night."

"You sure about this? I don't want to be any trouble..."

Balthazar nodded. "Your current shirt is better suited for dusting a mantle. As long as you're living under this roof, you will follow certain rules. Dakota's shirts are kept in the bottom drawer of the bedroom. I would greatly prefer that you don't touch anything else."

Vinnie coughed.

"Please," Balthazar hastily added. "And after this, we shall no longer put off matters of your name."

To his relief, the Jinx managed to change his shirt without incident. After that, they sat down at the table with a baby name book that Vinnie had in his possession.

For some reason. Maybe he had been born into a large family.

He flipped through the pages uncertainly. "There are so many names to choose from. And that's not even counting languages besides English!"

"Take your time," Balthazar said. "Maybe we could find something that goes with your surname, if you know it."

The Jinx shook his head. "The only names I know are the scientists and Murphy's Law."

"Wait! I've got it! We'll name you Vinnie Junior!" Vinnie exclaimed. He held up his hand expectantly, frowning when Balthazar folded his arms and the Jinx stared at his hand. "Aw, c'mon! It's rude to leave a guy hanging, you know!"

"What are you trying to do?" the Jinx asked curiously.

Vinnie gasped. "You don't know what a high-five is? They really don't teach you important social cues at the Bureau, do they? Just slap your palm against mine."

"I don't want to hurt you though," the Jinx rubbed his neck, shrinking in his seat.

Vinnie winked at him. "Trained agent here. Look, Balthy and I will show you."

This time, Balthazar high-fived him without a fuss. When Vinnie gave him a puzzled look, Balthazar frowned. "I didn't high five you the first time because I refuse to encourage your lackluster naming skills."

The Jinx grinned. "Well in that case, high five!" His palm brushed by Vinnie's, only hitting his knuckle.

Vinnie shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Eh, first time for everything."

Balthazar watched in amusement as the Jinx flipped through the book, murmuring softly to himself. He slammed his finger down on 'Henry', only to shake his head and continue searching for a different name. For five minutes, he was stuck on 'Aaron' and 'Leo', then decided he didn't like either of them.

Vinnie opened a pretzel bag, offering some to the Jinx, who distractedly put the pretzel stick in his mouth and sucked on the end while skimming through the 'R' section.

An hour later, the Jinx had four names written on a post-it that he wanted to use process of elimination on. Curiously, they all started with 'M': Mikey, Mason, Micah, and Milo.

"I grew up hearing Murphy's Law thrown around all the time," he explained sheepishly. "So I definitely want Murphy for my surname. Maybe I can turn the tables, make something good out of misfortune. The alliteration's just a bonus. I guess out of these, Micah sounds a little old-fashioned for me." He looked at Balthazar. "Not that there's anything wrong with that!"

Balthazar was glad that the child hadn't heard his original suggestions for names. He would have been just as mortified as Vinnie, if not more. "Old fashioned isn't for everybody," he said. "Three choices now."

Vinnie snorted. "Definitely not for me. Otherwise I'd be trapped in a boring stuffy suit all the time."

Balthazar rolled his eyes. The Jinx crossed off Mason as well, though he didn't voice his reason for doing so.

"Mikey Murphy...Milo Murphy...Mikey Murphy...Milo Murphy," he murmured.

"Down to these two! Then maybe we can pick a middle name!" Vinnie said. "Wouldn't it be funny if we went with a ridiculously long name?"

Balthazar put his hand over Vinnie's mouth so the Jinx could concentrate. "He's not a royal. From the looks of it anyway. There's no need for a long name unless the person in question has a ridiculously overblown ego."

It took ten more minutes of silent debate, but the Jinx looked up from the post-it, smiling. "Okay, I've decided. From this day forward, I will be known as Milo Murphy!"

He stood up in his chair, pounding his fist in the air. Balthazar gestured for him to sit down before he could fall.

"Welcome to the team, Milo Murphy," Balthazar said, patting Milo's back. Milo glanced up at him, his eyes sparkling with glee at not being referred to as a Jinx. "This will not be all sunshine and fun. Danger will be our middle names on this road we have chosen. But follow our instructions, and you shall be safe."

"Whoa, that's cool!" Milo exclaimed. "And I choose Danger to be my middle name! Except, maybe pronounce it like Don-zhay, to differentiate from the actual word."

"Milo Danger Murphy has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Vinnie asked, smiling as Milo danced around the apartment with a newfound spring in his step. If Balthazar hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would've refused to believe that this was the same child cowering under an umbrella less than 24 hours ago.

Balthazar nodded. "An incredibly nice ring. And our mission is to protect the boy behind the name."


	9. Sundresses and Sweatervests

_You can blame my obsession with Ducktales for this late chapter._

 _Ch 9- Sundresses and Sweatervests_

* * *

Balthazar clutched the watch like a stress reliever, his hat falling off as they hit another bump in their car. If the watch stopping didn't kill him, then Vinnie's driving surely would. "Dakota, be mindful of the speed bumps. I would like to get through today without a concussion, thank you," he hissed, checking the back seat.

As promised, they would be shopping for clothes today. Milo wasn't familiar with 21st century clothing, and Vinnie would definitely try to select something flashy. They needed clothes that blended in with the time period to prevent agents from recognizing them.

They had also stopped at a pawn shop in the shadier part of town to get rid of the valuables that had been inside the bag Vinnie fought the robot with. While the objects fetched less than the amount Balthazar had expected, it was enough for this shopping spree.

Balthazar hoped they wouldn't have to resort to pickpocketing later since they no longer had the meager earnings from selling pistachios and the salary from the Bureau.

Milo stared out the window, raking in every little detail from the street names to the restaurants. "Why do they call it rocky road?" He asked as they passed an ice cream parlor. "Kind of a funny name for food."

Vinnie chuckled. "Yeah, I guess they just wanted something that sounds marketable. Just imagine this road we're driving on is made of chocolate, like milk chocolate, not the bitter kind. Now substitute in nuts for all the little bumps in the asphalt, and marshmallows for the line markers. You know, when I say it like that I make myself hungry for some rocky road."

"Clothing first. Then we'll get some ice cream," Balthazar said.

"I can't wait to try other flavors. All the scientists in the Bureau only ate vanilla," Milo said. "Vanilla's fine, but when I managed to sneak cups from the fridge it always tasted bland."

"Well, I can assure you they have more ice cream flavors than...ah...what's something that there's a lot of?" Vinnie scratched his head.

"Stars?" Balthazar supplied.

Vinnie shook his head. "Maybe not that many."

It took a few minutes of driving around the lot, but Balthazar managed to snag a parking space near the entrance of a major department store. They filed out of the car, Milo staring up at the large pillars that held up the building.

"Big, isn't it?" Vinnie said. "Glad you're raking it in now, because it gets boring rather quickly. Especially while Balthy is trying on clothes, because he takes forever."

"I need something comfortable that also won't bleed us dry," Balthazar retorted.

"Only Balthy would call a stiff upper collar comfy," Vinnie whispered.

Milo glanced at a section which displayed men's tuxedos and ties. "Whoa, this is really fancy!" he exclaimed, poking the fabric of the suit. The rack crashed to the ground, scattering its items along the carpet. A sales attendant rushed over, muttering something about working in retail as he hung the clothes up.

The crash drew the attention of two women in bright sundresses and carrying large designer purses. They whispered to each other as they accusingly pointed at Milo. Balthazar glared at them while he steered Milo to the opposite side of the store.

"Don't pay them any mind," Balthazar growled. "The nerve of some people."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to knock it down. I don't mind going back to help clean up," Milo said. Vinnie patted his shoulder to comfort him.

"Don't worry about it, kid. The important thing is getting those clothes as fast as possible," Vinnie replied.

Balthazar unhooked three dress shirts from the rack, tossing them to Vinnie, who raised an eyebrow at the clothes. "Relax. These are for me. We can easily find something for you two in one of the cheaper stores."

Vinnie and Milo sat in chairs outside the fitting room while Balthazar tried on the clothes. Locking the door behind him, Balthazar took off the watch and set it on the bench.

It was strange. He hadn't been fixated on the watch as much anymore. There were other matters that required his attention.

After ten minutes, Balthazar decided to take the first two shirts. The third had been tight in the sleeves, which would hinder his movement if he ever got into an important fight.

There was an urgent knock at the door. "Dakota, I'm just finishing up," Balthazar said. "I'll be out in a minute."

"That's a relief," Vinnie sighed. "A mannequin toppled over and almost hit someone's kid. Then when Milo tried to go help, one of the stroller's wheels broke. And the icing on the cake is that those women in sundresses we saw earlier just won't stop staring at Milo."

"Maybe they're just looking for an excuse to sue the store," Balthazar suggested, even though it sounded hollow to his ears. He hastily changed into his own clothes, hiding the watch under his vest once again and gathering up the shirts he wanted to buy.

For a moment, he was worried that Vinnie had left Milo alone. But to his relief, Milo was simply checking his reflection in a mirror nearby. The women were idly flipping through a rack of prom dresses, though they were obviously past high school age and did not appear to have a daughter they were shopping with.

Maybe they were just writers for a gossip rag and were pressed for good stories.

Balthazar took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax before strolling up to the sales desk. "Hello, sir. My name is Valerie," a young woman said. "Did you find everything all right today?"

Vinnie and Milo were waiting by the entrance to the rest of the mall. Vinnie was on alert, his eyes sweeping the store for any sign of the women.

It took a moment for Balthazar to realize he hadn't answered her question. "Um, yes. Everything is satisfactory," he stammered.

She raised an eyebrow at his strange way of saying yes, but scanned the shirts without a fuss. The prices flashed on the screen, and Balthazar quickly handed her the exact amount, not wanting to waste time with counting change.

"Are you a member of our rewards program?" Valerie asked.

"No," Balthazar said.

Vinnie flashed a thumbs up. As the clerk rattled off all the benefits of the rewards program, Balthazar saw the women coming out of the handbag section. One of them started comparing the size with the large black purse she currently had. The other rolled her eyes.

"Maybe some other time," Balthazar said quickly, cutting Valerie off. "If you could just bag those for me, that would be quite sufficient."

She folded the shirts and stuck them in the bag. Balthazar grabbed it. "Thank you. Have a good day, ma'am!"

He joined Vinnie and Milo, who had to be pulled away from the large display windows of the stores they passed as they attempted to put as much distance between them and the women as possible.

"Why are we in a hurry?" Milo asked.

"Because there's something odd about those women," Balthazar replied. "They seem oddly interested in you."

"We've probably lost them for now," Vinnie said, panting as he slowed down and caught his breath. "Savannah warned us about agents trying to capture us. We'd better watch our step from here on out."

They also moved up to the third floor, checking over their shoulders to make sure they weren't being followed. "Mr. Cavendish, do you think we can stop in here?" Milo asked, pointing to the small clothing store they were in front of. "I think I see something in here I like."

Balthazar nodded. "Make it quick though."

Milo picked up a folded sweatervest and held it against his body to check its length. "I kind of like this one," he said.

"Pick out a shirt too. Sweatervests need to go over something," Balthazar said. He had to admit, the kid had a better taste in clothes than Vinnie.

Milo found a collared yellow shirt holding it up to Balthazar so he could look at it. "Oh, that's what your gonna wear?" Vinnie asked. "I see you take after Balthazar's style."

"And you plan on buying that red polo?" Balthazar asked. "You'd look like a caddy with that thing on."

Vinnie shrugged. "I don't mind. Besides, all I need now is one of those funny looking British caps. You wouldn't happen to have one of those lying around, right?"

"What makes you think I carry around random articles of clothing?" Balthazar complained. "Milo, take these shorts with you into the fitting room."

He handed Milo a gray pair of shorts with the hanger still attached.

Milo looked at the bundle in his arm, then at Balthazar and Vinnie. "You know, I've never been clothes shopping before. This is great. Even the running away from two women portion." He turned and headed to the fitting room.

Vinnie didn't bother trying on his new polo, walking straight up to the sales counter instead.

Balthazar kept an eye out for the women while he waited, drumming his fingers against his thigh while he waited. Milo popped out of the fitting room, grinning as he walked up to the counter with his new clothes in hand.

Vinnie paid for Milo's clothes, ruffling his head while the clerk scanned their items. As soon as the purchase was complete, Balthazar ushered them into the bathroom to change.

By the time Balthazar stepped out of the stall in his new outfit, Vinnie and Milo were already waiting for him. "What?" Vinnie protested when Balthazar adjusted the collar of the polo so it wasn't lopsided. "I can't help it if I look good in red!"

"You won't look good in anything if you continue to be sloppy about it," Balthazar said. "Are you all right with those clothes, Milo?"

Milo nodded. "Great! These shorts are really comfy!"

"Good, because we might not be able to buy new clothes for a while," Balthazar said, adjusting his hat in the mirror. He couldn't help but be attached to it. Even if it would give him away. "It's best if we save the ice cream for another day. I don't want those women catching up to us. We'll locate an exit and loop around the exterior to get back to our car."

Vinnie tapped his shoulder. "Um, I hate to burst your bubble, Balthy. But I think they've already caught up to us."

"In the future, you might want to think about looking into disabling security footage before entering an area."

He cursed. No wonder he didn't see them in pursuit. They had just been waiting for a good opportunity to corner them.

Balthazar and Vinnie immediately jumped in front of Milo in a defensive stance. The woman in blue giggled. "Aw, they're protecting their little charge! That's pretty adorable, Scarlet!"

Scarlet rolled her eyes, tossing her long, red hair in disdain. "Indigo, once we capture them you can squeal all about the kid's cuteness when he's safely behind a cell."

Indigo shrugged as she swung at Vinnie with her giant handbag. "Show 'em who's boss!"

"Milo! Hide in a stall!" Balthazar ordered, kicking Scarlet's exposed knee. She yelped, gritting her teeth in pain. "Don't let these women take you!"

Instead of hiding, Milo turned the faucets of the sinks. Immediately, water spewed out of the broken pipes and flowed out of the basin, dripping on the floor in a massive stream.

Better the sinks than the toilets. Balthazar wrinkled his nose as the water seeped into the cuff of his pants.

Indigo pinned Vinnie next to a paper towel dispenser, growling as he dodged her attempts to stab him with her high heels. "You're adorable. But not as adorable as my starlet Scarlet!"

"That's what she calls you?" Balthazar asked, grabbing the tip of a long umbrella she'd pulled out of her handbag to swing at him.

"Doesn't matter how many times I tell her not to call me that in public," Scarlet said as she yanked the umbrella out of his grip and slammed it into his shoulder, knocking him off balance. She knocked him down with a swipe of her leg, the tip of her high heel digging into his shirt.

And to think he'd just bought it too...

His head spun from hitting the bathroom tiles, and he could feel Scarlet applying more pressure. She wouldn't be hitting anything vital, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt.

Vinnie and Indigo wrestled on the wet floor, until Indigo managed to hold him down when he mistimed a punch. He went limp under her, his head rolling to the side.

Milo gasped. "Mr. Dakota! It's okay! I might have some smelling salts in my backpack!"

"Oopsies! Guess I don't know my own strength!" Indigo laughed nervously. As soon as she let go, Vinnie's head snapped up, and he kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying into the sink.

Indigo groaned and collapsed on her front.

"Neither do I," Vinnie said. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

Scarlet clapped a hand to her mouth, and she removed her high heel from Balthazar's chest, turning Indigo over as she checked for injuries. Balthazar groaned, pushing himself to his feet. "The exit," he muttered. "While she's tending to her partner."

Milo dug into his backpack, tossing Scarlet a roll of smiley-face bandages before they rushed out of the bathroom.

"Do you think they'll be all right?" Milo asked. "That looked painful."

"They're agents, Milo," Balthazar replied as he opened a portal with the Transporter. "They'll recover fast. We'll have to hop in another time period to lose them. I don't want them trailing us to our apartment."

"You don't have any injuries?" Vinnie asked. "That was a pretty hard hit."

Balthazar growled. "Quit worrying! I'm all right! At least that fight didn't draw a lot of blood. We may not be so lucky in the future. For now, hop in the portal."

He was disregarding the rule for opening a portal in the middle of a public space, but he didn't care anymore. The important thing was escaping. Scarlet and Indigo would be unable to trace the signal.

They stepped through to the other side, and Balthazar closed the connection quickly. With any luck, nobody saw the portal.

Then they came face to face with a woman in dull brown clothing, who shrieked and dropped a basket of bread she was carrying. "Witchcraft! Witchcraft!" she yelped, attracting the attention of several men.

"Don't tell me. We stand out," Balthazar gulped as several villagers began to stare, whispering to each other.

Milo looked down at his sweatervest. "I don't think we do. I think you look fine."

"I'd say we stand out, but you told me not to tell you," Vinnie said. "What time period is this?"

Balthazar checked the date on the Transporter. "The 17th century."

The watch ticked louder.

"I don't suppose these Puritans are gonna let us off easy."


	10. Paradise Lost

_Ch 10- Paradise Lost_

* * *

The men led them through the village, surrounding them on all sides so they couldn't escape. Balthazar and Vinnie kept Milo between them for safety, eyeing the heavy guns several of the men carried.

Vinnie and Milo's clothing stood out, brightly colored against the dull landscape. Modern glasses wouldn't do Vinnie any favors either.

Balthazar tapped the shoulder of the guard next to him, a stone-faced man with a neatly trimmed beard. "Excuse me, where are you taking us?"

"The chapel," he said.

Funny. From the way the guards were flanking them, Balthazar would've assumed they were taking them to prison.

Scratch that.

Prison would've given them time alone so they could escape through a portal into the 21st century. He couldn't risk opening a portal now, not when they could easily open fire.

The chapel towered over the other houses, though just as plain. The only decoration on the exterior was a wooden cross mounted above the door.

The watch ticked under his shirt, and Balthazar clutched it in a futile attempt to quiet the sound.

"Reverend Brown, these are trespassers," a man explained. "Only the Lord's guidance can steer them off this unholy path."

Reverend Brown drew a book from the folds of his robes. Balthazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Great, couldn't escape the spiritual lectures from random clergymen even when he was time traveling.

The men who'd brought them here cast dark looks over their shoulders as they filed out, leaving them with Reverend Brown.

Milo ran his hand against the rough wooden pews, curiously looking around the one-room chapel.

"Did you sire him?" Reverend Brown asked.

Balthazar and Vinnie glanced at each other. The real explanation would surely get them declared clinically insane.

"He's my son," Vinnie declared. Balthazar sighed in relief, surprised at the decent lie. Vinnie and Milo didn't resemble each other at all, but Reverend Brown looked satisfied.

"And you are?"

Spoke too soon.

"A family friend," Balthazar replied. "The boy's poor mother fell ill, and we have been traveling far and wide in search of a cure."

"I see. And has this illness manifested as a result of the child?" Reverend Brown asked. "Demons infect their surroundings, bringing misfortune and destruction wherever they rampage."

Vinnie balled his fists, and Balthazar held his arm out to warn him not to do anything rash.

When Balthazar looked up, half the pews were toppled over, splintered into fragments beyond repair. Milo rubbed his neck. "Sorry about that."

Reverend Brown gasped, jabbing an accusing finger in Milo's direction. "You defiled a house of worship, witch," he spat. "This is sacrilege of the highest order, and punishment will rain down on you accordingly."

"All this for some accidental destruction?" Balthazar asked. "Look, we can help you get more supplies. Chop some wood, stoke the fire, but you will not be accusing our charge."

Although Reverend Brown was a head shorter than him, Balthazar took a step back when the man leered at him. "Accomplices, the both of you. Begone from this holy site, demons from hell."

 _You can never come back._

That voice...

 _You have chosen._

He hadn't chosen to be murdered. The watch was still closed. How could he hear the voice?

 _A paradise awaited. The gates are forever closed._

There were several voices. One screaming, two concerned. He didn't understand them.

The watch ticked on.

 _Everything was red. The gargoyles, once used as a line of defense against the foul demons that roamed the land, glowered at him with soulless eyes. Baring their fangs, they crawled off their perch, creeping toward him with all the grace of an experienced predator._

 _Lava dripped from their stone bodies, flowing into a river of fire behind them. Balthazar's heart raced as he found his path of escape blocked by a large boulder._

 _They were closer._

 _Balthazar pushed the boulder, to no avail. They were closing in._

 _There was no escape._

 _Closer._

 _One winged beast knocked him to the ground with a roar. It raised its talons..._

"Balthy! Balthy! Wake up! Wake up, will ya! I can't do this. Not again. I failed you again. I made a promise I couldn't keep. You gotta wake up..."

Balthazar groaned. "Dakota, I'm fine..."

It was a flimsy lie and he knew it.

He took note of his surroundings, staring at the high walls of a large barn filled with hay and farming supplies. He laid in a bed of hay, Vinnie sitting next to him.

He didn't know where Milo was.

"You call screaming like you were being flayed alive 'fine'?" Vinnie shouted, yanking his glasses off.

A tear trickled down his face.

Balthazar quickly sat up, his mouth open as he struggled to think of something to comfort Vinnie.

But nothing came out.

"Your watch."

Balthazar paled. But there was no use in hiding it now. He took off the strap, running his thumb against the golden surface.

"You didn't think I noticed you hanging onto this thing," Vinnie continued. His voice was colder, more distant than Balthazar had ever heard. "That you didn't clutch your chest every so often. How you never used it to tell time."

"It wasn't important. I would've told you, but the opportunity never presented itself," Balthazar muttered.

Vinnie abruptly stood up, brushing straw off his clothes. "In other words, you're deliberately hiding something from me. Regardless of what Block thinks, the other agents, and especially you, I'm not stupid. Now answer my question."

Balthazar avoided Vinnie's sharp gaze, staring at the dirt floor to the side. "Very well."

"Where did you get that watch?"

Balthazar hesitated. Of all the times for Vinnie to be focused, he chose now. He ducked his head, looking at every place but his partner. He knew Vinnie deserved to know.

He'd damaged the trust between them when he rushed off that fateful night. He might as well take a machete to it now and get it over with.

"Heaven," he mumbled.

Vinnie raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Heaven!" Balthazar shouted. "When I died...I was given a choice."

He was lying again. It was far too late to backpedal. But it was a failsafe. Vinnie didn't need to know where Balthazar would wind up after his death.

It wouldn't be heaven.

And Vinnie probably wouldn't find that out until he died.

They would be separated forever.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Balthazar asked. "I was given a second chance."

There was no chance. Orton didn't offer it then, and he wouldn't offer it now.

"They let you in heaven," Vinnie said. "And they gave you the watch."

Not gave. Stolen.

"Yes," Balthazar said. "I apologize for not telling you sooner."

Vinnie turned away, his head low. "I need to be alone."

He left Balthazar in a far corner of the barn.

Did Milo overhear their conversation? He hoped not. Milo was far too young to be caught up in an adult's quarrel.

Balthazar gripped a wooden beam as he stood up, feeling awkward and uncoordinated. Then he heard a horse neigh from somewhere in the barn, followed by a laugh.

Following the noise, he found Milo stroking a large, white horse's nose. Milo fed it a carrot, giggling when the vegetable disappeared in seconds.

"Milo?" Balthazar said. "Would you mind filling me in on what happened?"

Milo glanced up at him, gently pushing the horse's nose away from his shoulder. "Sure," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," Balthazar admitted. "Dakota was angry. Best to leave him alone for a bit."

Milo nodded. "When you blacked out, Reverend Brown thought you were possessed and started shouting for people to take you into the courthouse. Mr. Dakota grabbed you and we hightailed it to this barn just outside the village. You were screaming."

He looked down, shifting on his feet. "You scared us," Milo mumbled.

Balthazar stroked the horse's long nose to give his hands something to do, so they didn't tremble with worry over the pain he'd caused his companions.

"It happened very fast," Balthazar said quietly. "None of us were prepared."

Just like last time. He hadn't been prepared to die. Agents have died on dangerous missions before, but Balthazar never thought he'd be a statistic to that list.

"It was like the serum," Milo whispered, his voice barely audible against the sounds of the barn animals. "I was never actually in the middle of a thunderstorm, was I? I realize that now. But it looked real." He swallowed. "Felt real."

Balthazar placed a hand on Milo's shoulder, drawing him closer to his side.

Funny the way the mind worked. Their experiences weren't real, but they were so real.

His vision hadn't been triggered by the fear serum. There was something else at play here.

"You know this is my first time petting a horse, right?" Milo asked, breaking away from the side hug. Balthazar was glad for the abrupt change in subject. Anything to take his mind off Vinnie for a few minutes.

"You seemed very eager about it as I recall," Balthazar said. "He's a gentle one at least. Some horses aren't nearly this complacent."

"Yeah, horse-drawn carriages tend to break whenever I get close to them, and the horses get pretty skittish, so I never really got the chance to pet one," Milo said. "Did you ever have a horse?"

Balthazar stroked the horse's velvety snout, dreading this particular memory. "I had a terrible riding experience when I was a teenager. Lost my taste for horses ever since."

"Did you fall off? Cause I heard the Bureau's scientists talking about this one guy who fell off a horse and got paralyzed," Milo said.

"Yes," Balthazar muttered. "Look, I was young once too. I had what you'd call a crush on some farm girl. Don't ask for her name, because I don't remember. Long story short, I tried to get my horse to jump a creek to impress her and wound up falling in. And you will not repeating what you just heard to anybody." The horse snorted, and Balthazar glared at it. "That goes double for you."

Milo giggled. "Cross my heart. I won't tell."

"Good," Balthazar nodded. "I think I've given Dakota adequate space. We need to locate him so we can leave these wretched Puritans and get back to the 21st century. And quickly, so they don't find us taking shelter here."

They found Vinnie sitting on a bench next to several tools. He was slumped over, one hand resting on his head as he listlessly traced something in the dirt with a pitchfork.

"Dakota! We're leaving," Balthazar announced, showing him the Transporter, calibrated and ready to go.

Vinnie didn't meet his eyes, nor did he give any sign that he'd heard.

Balthazar stared at him, surprised at Vinnie's indifference.

Well, more indifferent than Vinnie was normally. But now wasn't the time to be stubborn!

Balthazar cleared his throat. "We're going home. Come on."

He didn't budge.

"Mr. Dakota, can we please go home?" Milo asked. "And no offense, but Balthazar is trying to talk to you. Maybe he's got something to say?"

"Sorry, kid," Vinnie sighed, standing up. He folded his arms, still not looking at Balthazar. "I'm not ready yet. Just give me a few hours. Then we'll talk."

Milo's eyes flickered between Balthazar and Vinnie. "You can't just kiss and make up now?"

Balthazar sighed, opening the portal, which displayed the parking lot of their apartment. "Sorry. It isn't your fault, Milo. Best to give it time."

"I have to agree with Balthazar," Vinnie said quietly. "I just need to process a few things."

Milo still looked confused, but accepted the explanation with no argument.

While sulking wasn't unusual for Balthazar, it seemed almost unnatural for Vinnie to do it. And he didn't like it.

Not to mention being a terrible actor. Vinnie just gave away that he heard everything Balthazar said, for crying out loud!

They returned to the 21st century in silence, the barn fading away in a mysterious blue light.

Then they heard voices.

"Well, did you find them?" A raspy voice demanded. "Those idiots can't have gotten far!"

Vinnie immediately pulled Milo behind the shrubs that stood between the sidewalk and apartments, silently taking refuge in the greenery. Balthazar crawled underneath a large bush and held two large, leafy branches in front of him.

He could only hope they were properly concealed.

"Not yet," a man with a flaming red beard grunted. Balthazar stifled a gasp. "Remember, Scarlet and Indigo reported fighting them at the mall."

He was the one who dropped him off the bridge.

If he saw Balthazar...or worse, saw Vinnie and Milo, there was no telling what he could do to them.

His heart racing, Balthazar pinched himself to calm down so he could listen to their plan.

"They stole the Bureau's property," Block snarled. "I want them hunted down. Especially that Cooperdink. He's so incompetent that he couldn't even die properly. Red, don't fail me. You're one of the few good agents left."

Property? Incompetent?

Now he really wanted deck that bastard.

Red nodded. "I contacted Scarlet. We will rendezvous at the abandoned pistachio warehouse to discuss a plan for capturing the rogues. We will not fail."

"You'd better not," Block snarled. "And remember, the Jinx is to be taken alive. No exceptions."

Car doors slammed, causing Balthazar to jump. A loud engine came to life, and within a few seconds the car peeled downtown.

Balthazar slowly crept out of the bush, checking his surroundings before emerging completely.

There were only a few other cars in the parking lot, but no other people. No good hiding places available for anyone to come out an ambush them either.

"Clear," Balthazar said.

Vinnie crawled out first, looking around before helping Milo out of the bush. His exposed legs had patches of dirt stuck to them. Balthazar grimaced as Milo plucked two earthworms stuck to his body and set them gently into the soil.

Even from a distance, Balthazar could see that someone had taken a weapon to their apartment door and bashed it in completely.

"We were assigned to that apartment," Balthazar murmured. "We can't stay here any longer."

It was too dangerous to grab any possessions in case they left a few surprises in the apartment.

They would truly have to be on the run.


	11. The Restaurant

_This is a shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoy! New episodes hype!_

 _Ch 11- The Restaurant_

* * *

They walked in the opposite direction from the abandoned pistachio warehouse, not stopping for anything. They couldn't take any chances. A few times, Balthazar heard the roar of a vehicle and panicked, only for the sound to come from a few hooligans on motorcycles.

Milo trudged on, not complaining but visibly fatigued. The boy would need food. Living as a fugitive was no life for a child.

He deserved better.

But that was something Balthazar and Vinnie couldn't grant.

The sun was beginning to set. They would need to find a place to stay the night soon. Balthazar didn't want to resort to the nearest bus stop to take shelter in. He could do without the germs and people trying to rob him.

Trekking through town wouldn't be so bad if Vinnie had been his talkative self. But he was still furious, only speaking when asked a question. His replies were oddly curt when Balthazar asked him questions, but he managed a cordial tone if Milo asked.

Balthazar would've given anything to hear him ramble about food again.

Milo entertained himself by making it a point to avoid the cracks in the sidewalk. "So is it true that if you step on a crack, you break your mother's back? Because I wouldn't want that to happen to my mom, whoever she is."

"For people with dead parents, I don't think it matters much," Balthazar replied.

"But that would still hurt," Milo said, tripping over a crack but managing to catch himself before he fell and scraped something.

Balthazar nodded. "Most likely."

The conversation dulled quickly though. How did Vinnie handle rambling about nonsense all the time?

The buildings were steadily showing their age as they pushed deeper into town. Some had faded signs, others with ivy hanging off the sides. Several apartments didn't look that stable.

They were wandering around in one of the poorer neighborhoods. With a child. And only a crude form of protection with the brass knuckles.

The city wasn't known for a high crime rate, but there were likely some opportunists lurking around.

And Balthazar didn't want to take any chances. Not when his watch could be potentially considered valuable.

They passed by a man who was fumbling with his keys as he attempted to lock the door of his restaurant.

A restaurant. That meant food. And a place to stay the night that experienced agents were likely to overlook.

Balthazar tapped the man on his shoulder. He whirled around, quivering in fear. "I don't have any money!" he yelled.

"I'm not interested in money," Balthazar said. "My companions and I need a place to stay the night, but we're too poor to find a motel."

The man stared at him suspiciously. "You;re the craziest robber I have ever come across."

"We have a kid with us," Vinnie clamped his hand down on Milo's shoulder for emphasis. "He's not sleeping in the streets tonight if we can help it."

"All we ask is access to your kitchen," Balthazar said. "If you're still suspicious, then we will allow you to take out any money you have in the register or safe without a fight. In return, you must hand over the keys."

"Sounds more like a ransom with all your demands," the man grumbled.

"It's not a demand," Balthazar said pleasantly. He shifted to the left to block Milo's view of his glinting brass knuckles. The man took a step back. "Call it a request you can't refuse."

He flinched, handing over his keys quickly.

"Now, take your money and leave," Balthazar said.

He cleaned out the register in less than five minutes and took off without saying another word.

Vinnie and Milo went inside, and Balthazar locked the door once they were all inside. The blinds were thick enough to prevent anyone from seeing activity after closing hours.

The interior of the restaurant was rather tacky for Balthazar's liking. Fake sea bass and salmon lined the walls, and their beady eyes followed him with every step. He pushed down on a seat cushion next to the wall, a spring bouncing out of the fabric.

It wouldn't be the comfiest sleeping arrangement, but it would be better than being out in the open. As Milo passed by the security cameras, they ripped from the wires and fell to the ground.

Balthazar ripped the inside of the cameras apart. He was definitely being more careful about possible surveillance.

"Good thing you reminded me," Balthazar said, dumping the remains in the trash can.

Milo frowned. "How is he supposed to keep an eye on things?"

Balthazar shrugged. "Invest in better quality. That model was flimsy. Stay out here. I'm going to check on Dakota."

Milo nodded, though he still seemed to disapprove of destroying the security cameras. Balthazar opened a door that was across the hall from the restrooms, the smell of seafood hitting his nose.

Vinnie was in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until he brought out a large frying pan.

Balthazar stayed back in case Vinnie had the urge to smack him with it. "Making something?" he asked lightly.

"We're all starving. Taking advantage of it while I can," Vinnie said.

Well, he responded.

"That's good," Balthazar said.

"Yeah," Vinnie replied.

Balthazar never realized how much he missed their usual banter until now. It was awkward when both of them were giving short replies.

He tried to peer over Vinnie's shoulder as he placed a fish on a cutting board. "What are you cooking?"

"I've got a knife. You should be careful," Vinnie said as he filleted the fish. Balthazar winced at his choice of words, his hand flying up to his watch out of habit.

A really bad habit, he thought.

He sighed. "Look, I shouldn't have run off, like I did. Shouldn't have lied about the watch either." Vinnie grabbed several spices out of the cabinets, not turning around. "I-I just didn't think that-" he swallowed "-I didn't think. There. I'll just leave you alone then."

Balthazar quickly left the kitchen, putting his head down on a table.

That apology went south.

Milo climbed into the booth next to him, concerned. "What's Mr. Dakota doing?"

Not speaking to him, not listening when he actually forced an apology, too focused on his stomach to pay attention, Balthazar fumed. "Cooking," he said simply, deciding not to unload his worries on Milo.

"I never cooked before," Milo said. "I'd love to try though."

"Ask Dakota to teach you," Balthazar said. "I've never gotten the hang of it. It's an art form that requires dedication and an iron stomach."

Milo reclined against the back cushion. "So how bad is your cooking?"

"It's not bad!" Balthazar protested. "It's British. You Americans are so reliant on processed food now."

They were so caught up in their conversation about Balthazar's peculiar tastes in food that they almost missed Vinnie bringing out three plates.

"You give yourself too much credit," Vinnie said as he set the plates on the table. "Your cooking is bland, burnt, or dry. Sometimes all three at once."

Balthazar glared at him. "Just because you don't like your steak medium well-"

Vinnie sat down, throwing his hands up in resignation. "Can you believe this guy?" he jerked his thumb at Balthazar. Milo stifled his laughter, though it still came out in short huffs. "He thinks normal people actually eat their steak medium well!"

"I can't be the only person in this time period who eats steak medium well!" Balthazar exclaimed.

Vinnie scoffed as he passed the silverware. "Yeah, you're right. The only person in the past two centuries. That's more accurate."

This was what he'd been missing. Balthazar looked at his plate, which had the green beans arranged to spell out 'We're cool' and a smiley face carved into the rice.

He almost felt bad for ruining a masterpiece.

But he needed the sustenance. He had no idea where the next meal was coming from.

And it was Vinnie's cooking. Couldn't let that go to waste.

Milo practically inhaled his fish, then attacked his green beans with the same ferocity. He started to cough, so Vinnie thumped him on his back, forcing him to spit it out.

"Thanks," Milo gasped.

"You're welcome," Vinnie said. "And try to slow down. It tastes better when you savor it."

Balthazar agreed. He would savor this moment forever.

* * *

"Milo, I'm not asking again. Go to sleep," Balthazar groaned as Milo continued to squirm around in one of the booths. The springs squeaked with every slight movement, adding to Balthazar's irritation.

"Sorry, I keep hitting my knee against the boards," Milo said. "Have you ever slept in a restaurant before?"

"No, this is new to me. But at least try to rest no matter where we are," Balthazar replied. Milo had it easy. At least he could actually curl up. Balthazar's legs hung off the side so he couldn't change position without knocking into something.

Vinnie had claimed the circular booth by the kitchen. It was tempting to get up and force him to trade places. Balthazar wondered how his partner always managed to be a deep sleeper. A tornado could hit them and Vinnie wouldn't even wake up.

Then he felt someone's hands on his knees. Balthazar jerked, scrambling into a sitting position. His bare feet kicked out, brushing something soft. To his relief, it was just Milo standing on the wooden platform that held the booth.

Balthazar was glad he'd taken off his socks and shoes. "I didn't kick you, right?" he asked nervously, hoping he didn't have to explain anything to Vinnie if Milo had a bruised face in the morning.

Milo shook his head. "You grazed my cowlick," he said. "No harm done! Could I ask you one more thing?"

"One more question," Balthazar said. "That's all you'll receive. After that, go to sleep."

Milo shifted on his feet. "Do you think we could start looking for my parents? My real parents. Just so I know what they look like." His voice grew so quiet, Balthazar had to strain to hear him. "The scientists said they abandoned me because accidents kept happening. And that the Bureau took me in for the greater good."

Pushing down the strange feeling in his gut, Balthazar nodded. "Yes. That should be doable." He would think about it later when his brain was more alert.

"Okay, good night then," Milo said.

The cushion squeaked as Milo settled down once again.

Balthazar yawned, closing his eyes and drifting off into an uneasy sleep.


	12. On the Street

_This story is long due for an update. As I said before, The Island of Lost Dakotas will be ignored. Otherwise Vinnie could've just traveled back in time, hid the file so Balthazar couldn't find it, and he never would've gotten killed. Course, this means they wouldn't be able to find out about Milo so it's a double edged sword._

 _Ch 12- On the Street_

* * *

The sleeping arrangements would not be good for his back later. Balthazar yawned, stretching his legs out, taking care to avoid bumping into the table. During the night, several photo frames had broken and splintered, and many of the fake fish were hanging from their boards by only a thin wire.

Mostly around Milo's area. He was lucky none of them fell on top of him while he slept.

Milo was already awake. Balthazar couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly he would get ready for the day. He was a lot faster than Vinnie, that's for sure.

Speaking of Vinnie...

He was still passed out, his eyes shut tight against the early morning rays of the sun. Balthazar grimaced at the small trickle of drool that had built up on the corner of his mouth.

Wasn't anything new, but it irritated him all the same.

"Dakota, wake up," Balthazar ordered. Vinnie idly scratched his back before turning over. "We must continue being on the move."

"No...don't wanna pillow...between us," Vinnie mumbled between yawns.

"Before you ask, yes, he's always difficult to rouse," Balthazar sighed.

Milo glanced at Vinnie, then climbed up on the flat wooden surface that separated the occupied booth from the empty one. He crouched low, positioning himself directly above Vinnie's exposed stomach.

Balthazar was beginning to think they'd rescued a cat rather than a boy.

Milo pounced, his legs sticking straight up so he didn't knock into the table. Vinnie was still snoozing away.

"You wouldn't happen to have an air horn?" Balthazar asked.

Milo shook his head. "I don't, but I can try again with the pounce. His stomach is a pretty good cushion."

Milo carefully stood up and prepared to climb back up for a second attack. Then Vinnie's arms suddenly shot out and snagged Milo, pulling him back down. He cracked an eye open, smirking at Milo's shock.

"You'll have to be a lot quieter than that if you're trying to catch me by surprise," Vinnie said with a wink.

Milo returned the hug, then backed up to give him space to sit up.

"You were awake the whole time?" Balthazar complained. "Why didn't you get up sooner?"

Vinnie shrugged. "What? There's a huge difference between waking up and actually rolling out of bed. Or a booth, in this case."

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Hurry up then. We have no time to waste."

* * *

They left the keys in a potted plant outside the restaurant with along with a thank you note. And a hastily scribbled apology for breaking the surveillance camera. Hopefully the agents trying to track them down weren't thinking of looking in the less desirable part of town.

Balthazar debated contacting Savannah and Brick, but he was worried that the call could be traced. The Tri-State Area was a huge place though. They would be all right as long as nothing gave their positions away.

But he was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure the nearby group of field reporters weren't turning their cameras on them. The crew was currently swarming all over the gas station where they'd bought cheap breakfast burritos, eager to broadcast the fire that was rapidly consuming the soda section.

Vinnie steered Milo into a nearby alley, away from the street so they wouldn't be spotted. "That was a close one," Vinnie said. "Well, dig in to your burritos! No sense letting them go to waste!"

Easy for him to say. He practically inhaled half of it on the first bite.

Milo ate his burrito slowly, giggling at the grease that dripped down his chin. "This tastes funny."

"Yes, gas station food does that to some people," Balthazar remarked as he tried to contain his gag reflex. Ugh, the grease was soaking through the wrapper. Wonderful. "Just try to keep it down."

"Take your own advice," Vinnie suggested.

After some hesitance, Balthazar finally forced the first bite down his throat. "I might require a few minutes," he complained. "After that meal you cooked yesterday, the downgrade in quality will take some getting used to."

He was expecting Vinnie to laugh. He didn't, instead picking at the fabric of his pants instead.

"So I kind of have to use the restroom," Milo said awkwardly.

"I don't want you going out there where you could potentially be seen," Balthazar said. "You'll have to find some cover in this alley."

Milo nodded. "I'll be behind that stack of boxes over there." He pointed to a large stack of cardboard boxes that were covered in black scrawls and mud. Within seconds he was out of sight.

The wrapper sat in Vinnie's lap, every last crumb gone. He avoided Balthazar's eyes.

"I know I spelled 'it's cool' in your green beans yesterday," Vinnie said, his fingers digging into his shirt. "But it's not enough to make up for me ignoring you after you had that...vision, I guess."

There wasn't any need for an apology. He didn't realize that Balthazar was still only telling him half-truths. If anything, Balthazar should've been the one begging for forgiveness.

Balthazar held up a hand to stop him from rambling. "It's all right. You protected Milo even while you were angry at me. I can't fault you for that."

"You fault me for everything," Vinnie chuckled.

"Trivial stuff perhaps," Balthazar shrugged. "There are exceptions to everything."

"Speaking of Milo, he's too young for this sorta thing," Vinnie said. "Treating a kid like this, it's not fair."

Balthazar sighed. "I know. Last night, Milo asked me if we could find his parents so he knows what they look like." His fists clenched. "He doesn't know he was kidnapped as a baby. The Bureau fed him a lie about his parents abandoning him. Suppose we found the people who brought him into this world. What if he thinks they abandoned him? What if he thinks we're going to abandon him to people he doesn't know?"

Surely they couldn't be the only ones who cared about Milo's well-being. Nobody deserved to labelled a danger to society because of something beyond their control.

He needed a roof over his head. Somewhere he could get water and food because he was valued and not as a necessity.

They cared about the kid. He wasn't going to deny that. But living on the run...

It just wasn't suitable for Milo. That boy deserved someone who was capable of caring for him.

"We'll figure it out," Vinnie said quietly. "He's an understanding kid."

"I'm back!" Milo shouted, emerging from behind the stack. "Um, did you want me to wash my hands? There aren't exactly sinks here."

Vinnie tossed him a wet wipe from his pocket. "Here kid. I always carry a pack around. Otherwise Balthy would get onto me."

Balthazar decided not to comment.

"You were taking a while," Vinnie said. "Missed us talking about you."

Before Milo could respond, several tires screeched to a halt. Balthazar and Vinnie quickly got to their feet and backed behind a dumpster, Milo barricaded behind them. Balthazar wrinkled his nose at the rancid stench of the garbage.

They were all going to need a shower soon. Their clothes probably stunk to high heaven.

Someone in black entered the alley.

"Brick here," he called out. "I have information."

Balthazar signaled for Vinnie and Milo to stay put while he crept out of their hiding place. To his relief, it really was Brick.

Not an agent out for his blood. It was good to see a somewhat punchable face.

"What sort of information?" Balthazar asked.

"Savannah and I managed to find a lead on the Jinx's-"

"Milo," Balthazar repeated. "He will not be called that awful name any longer. His name is Milo."

Brick sighed. "Do you always have to interrupt me? Fine, Milo or whatever you decided to call the kid. We found a lead on his parents."

"This isn't the place to be talking about that," Balthazar said, his gaze shifting to the news van across the street.

"First smart thing you've said in your life," Brick said. "I'll have to explain everything on the way to the church. Everyone into the limo."


	13. Sanctuary

_Oh hey it's the number 13! The unlucky number! Also, some religion._

 _Uploading this so it'll be Friday the Thirteenth on Eastern Standard Time (US). Everyone else can enjoy the chapter a few hours earlier or later depending on your time zone!_

 _Ch 13- Sanctuary_

* * *

"It would be less obvious to take you to the Murphys' church rather than going directly to their home," Brick explained as the limo pulled into the downtown area. "Savannah and I determined through careful observation that Brigette Murphy regularly visits the church by herself while her husband and daughter are at work and school. Luckily for you, today would be one of those times."

Milo's eyes were fixed on the aquarium in the backseat. "I can't believe I get to meet my mom," he murmured. "You think she'll look like me?"

Vinnie ruffled his hair. "Maybe. Or you could take after your dad. Who knows?"

Balthazar barely paid attention as Brick rattled off details of the Murphy family. Something about a safety inspector, an architect, and a comic book store.

If this was indeed Milo's biological family, they at least had a steady income. He could have a sister. He would be able to go to school like any other child.

So why did he feel as though he was abandoning Milo? Due to circumstances beyond their control, the Murphys had missed out when Milo chose his name, his first time purchasing clothes he liked, or seen the laughter when Milo touched a horse for the first time.

It hadn't been a week, and he was already fond of Milo. No wonder emotional attachments were highly discouraged for agents. It made it hard to think properly.

But it was for the best.

And he wished he could convince himself that.

The limo pulled up to the steps of the Danville Catholic Church, the steeple towering high over the other buildings. A stained glass window of a dove was set above the heavy wooden doors.

He and Vinnie had passed by the church several times back when they were still lowly pistachio sellers. Now that he had to go inside, it was starting to look more ominous by the minute. Churches just didn't agree with him. Not after the blackout he had in the Puritan era.

"Before you leave, there's one more thing I must ask you to do," Brick said sternly as they exited the limo. "You will not reveal to Brigette Murphy that Milo is her son on the grounds of the church. That information is best reserved for a private conversation."

The limo sped off, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.

"We'd better get inside before anyone sees us," Balthazar said. He placed his hands behind his back, his fingers twitching to clutch the watch. The habit was spiraling out of control.

* * *

In a matter of minutes, the tub of holy water burst, a candle claimed a painting of the Last Supper, and four crosses had splintered.

"Echo!" Milo shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. "Hello! Salsa!"

Balthazar sat down in one of the front rows, ignoring the oily water that was covering the back area of the church. He rested his head on the pew in front of him, the watch trembling under his shirt.

Vinnie rested a hand on his back. "Maybe you oughta lie down."

 _You can never come back._

"Dakota," Balthazar gasped. "I think...I think it's happening again."

The ticking was the only thing he could think about. It filled his mind, the hands beating without end.

"Try and fight it," Vinnie urged quietly. His grip tightened on Balthazar's hands.

 _A swift end will come to those who reject heaven. You cannot fight it._

He couldn't.

He just couldn't...

Balthazar's vision darkened, and the collar of Vinnie's shirt was the last thing he felt as the accusatory voices took hold, dragging him away to some unknown, lonely place.

 _Heavy metal chains and locks bolted him to the chair, its monstrous four legs parading him through the flames while horrible, grotesque demons cackled and jeered._

 _They prodded his face with sharp sticks._

 _They grabbed the chains and forcefully yanked in every direction, forcing him to gasp for the heavy, stuffy air that made it almost impossible to breathe._

 _They appeared out of nowhere, their faces melding with the brimstone walls, fangs bared in horrible toothy grins as they delighted and reveled in his humiliation._

 _The chair ground to a halt at the end of the long hallway._

" _GUILTY," a chorus of voices proclaimed._

 _Balthazar couldn't speak. Only a hoarse cry came out, his desperate plea falling on indifferent ears._

" _GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!"_

 _A wall crumbled away, and a clawed, red hand reached through to drag him to his punishment..._

 _And a spray of cold water hit his face._

Balthazar's eyes flew open, and he groaned as another wave of mist hit them. "Was that necessary?" he complained. He tried to sit up, only for his chest to feel like it was on fire. He grimaced in pain.

Vinnie set the spray bottle down, throwing a wad of slightly damp paper towels at him. "Your watch was burning you," he said. "I tried taking it off, but you were thrashing around so much and screaming when I barely touched the strap so...yeah. And I needed to cool the watch down."

The watch had burned him? He gingerly unbuttoned his dress shirt, carefully peeling the rather warm watch away from his skin. Sure enough, there was a red circular imprint where the watch had been.

He dabbed the area with a damp paper towel, wincing as the edge brushed the sensitive area.

"It's not too deep," Vinnie sighed. "And don't worry about Milo. I sent him out to get paper towels before your episode hit its high point."

Balthazar looked away. "He's seen me have one before."

Milo had survived countless unethical experiments. Surely he would be able to handle a caretaker who occasionally hallucinated eternal damnation.

However, he knew Vinnie would disagree if he said it out loud.

"Not one as bad as this," Vinnie murmured. "He handled it a lot better than me the first time. I had to make it up to you. I was so mad at you after the first time. I shouldn't have gotten that mad. But no, past me just can't seem to be there when you need it."

Balthazar sat up, ignoring the pain in his chest. He lifted Vinnie's chin up so they could look each other in the eyes with no hesitation. "We had this conversation earlier," he said sternly. "You're not to blame and I will not allow you to leave this room until you see that. Understand?"

"You mean it?" Vinnie asked. There was something odd about his hesitance now. It shifted to another place.

But where?

If he wanted Balthazar to answer, then he shouldn't have been leaning in that closely.

He chose to ignore it, nodding. "Absolutely."

A door slammed against the wall, and Balthazar jumped, quickly buttoning his shirt up before Milo could see the burn on his chest. He would have to get some ointment for that later.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to bang it that hard!" Milo exclaimed, not noticing that he was covered head to toe in paper towels. He rushed over, dumping two rolls next to Balthazar. "I guess I kind of took a while, huh? You're alright now?"

Vinnie shook his head. "Nah, your timing's fine."

"I'm fine, don't worry about me," Balthazar said, hoping to wave away his concern.

Milo still didn't look convinced. "You weren't fine. You were clinging to Mr. Dakota and shouting," he said.

Why did his companions feel the need to restate previous conversations? He was getting tired of repeating himself.

"You got paper towels all over you, kid. Did the dispenser vomit on you or something?" Vinnie chuckled as he discarded all the loose towels from Milo's head.

"No," Milo said, still looking concerned. He was expecting an answer.

Balthazar was glad Vinnie had switched to another topic so rapidly. It was wise to avoid another long, draining argument.

Especially when the other party was a boy who was all smiles even when life handed him the short end of the stick. He couldn't begin to imagine a Milo unwilling to speak with him.

"-so then she said she'd put in a request at the church office to clean up the water before weekend service. She was really nice about it too. It was funny, she said the office was used to her requests anyway," Milo explained, his concern replaced by excitement. "Oh, and she's coming by the chapel, so if we stay long enough, you guys can meet her!"

"We aren't going anywhere," Balthazar reminded him. "We're on a lookout for Brigette Murphy, remember?"

"Brigette?" Milo gasped, jumping back in surprise. "You mean-"

"Wait, that woman you were describing, did you happen to get her name?" Balthazar asked. Brick and Savannah had left out any physical features, nor did they have a picture, so dumb luck was all they had in picking her out from all the other church patrons.

Milo nodded, grinning. "I found Brigette! I found-oh my gosh, I found my mom! I dunno, I don't think I look like her though. And she doesn't seem like the abandoning type. She's really nice."

"This is great, Milo! I love a good coincidence, isn't that right, Balthy?" Vinnie grinned and elbowed him.

"Right," Balthazar said. "Milo, I know this is exciting for you, but we cannot reveal your biological relationship to her just yet. It should wait for a more opportune time."

Not even that warning could deter Milo. He was sure the boy wouldn't slip up, but he also wore his heart on his sleeve.

And Balthazar wanted to meet Brigette and her family first before entrusting Milo to them. Based on Brick's observations, they were likely good people.

As far as Milo knew, his family abandoned him. Yet he was still excited to meet them.

He didn't know how to be suspicious.

"I never caught your name, you know," someone said. They glanced over to a side door, and a woman with short, dark blonde hair waved at them. "Hello, you must be his guardians."

"My name's Milo!" he exclaimed. "This is Mr. Dakota, and next to him is Mr. Cavendish!"

Vinnie waved at her. "You don't have to include the mister part for us, don't worry."

"Is your name Brigette by any chance?" Balthazar asked. "Apparently you and Milo had a fascinating conversation."

Brigette smiled, shaking hands with Balthazar and Vinnie. "Yes, I'm Brigette. Nice to meet you. And it was no problem, I was just helping out. The church office has a separate box for my husband. It was easy to stick in a cleanup note along with a half dozen other repair jobs."

As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Milo. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Brigette nodded. "I'm fine. Your cowlick just reminded me of someone, that's all. Don't mind me." Her voice wavered slightly. "Would you three like to join my family for dinner? It's been a while since we had guests."

Vinnie nodded eagerly. "Yes! Thanks so much! Come on you two, it'll be fun!"

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Of course you wouldn't turn down a free meal."

"Where else are we supposed to get one?" Vinnie asked.

But he was right. And Balthazar certainly wasn't wasting this opportunity.

"We'll be happy to accept," Balthazar said.

Milo smiled. "Are you a good cook?"

"I think so. It's not really one of my main talents though. That honor goes to being an architect," Brigette admitted. "But someone's gotta do it, right?"

"Tell me about it," Vinnie muttered. "Last time Balthy cooked, he wouldn't leave me alone because he couldn't tell when the noodles for spaghetti were ready."

Well, excuse him for not wanting to throw it at the refrigerator as Vinnie instructed. He didn't want to clean carbohydrates and water off the surface, thank you.

"Well, let me give you my address so you can come over later," Brigette said, reaching into her purse.

She didn't realize they had no means of transportation other than walking. He supposed he could call a taxi, but he'd rather save the dwindling wad of cash they had for food or other emergencies.

And it would be easy for an agent to pose as a driver. It was far too risky.

"Ma'am, while I appreciate the gesture, we don't have a way of getting to your home," Balthazar said. "You see, we became homeless recently and we can't even afford gas."

It was technically true, even if he did oversimplify the situation.

"Oh," Brigette said, her gaze softening. "Then why don't I give you a lift? There's plenty of room in my car. It's no trouble."

"That sounds great," Vinnie said.

"I'm sure Martin and Sara would love to meet all of you," Brigette smiled. But there was something...sad about it. At first Balthazar thought it was because he mentioned being homeless, but then she reached towards Milo, as if she wanted a closer look at his face. She thought better of it, pulling away. "Do you mind if I go pray for a few minutes? I'm sorry, it's something I've done for years. Ever since one of...since one of my children died shortly after birth."

She rushed off to the opposite side, quickly kneeling on a bench in front of a statue of Mary, her head bowed in prayer.

Milo gripped Balthazar's arm. "Do you think I have another sibling?" he whispered, his eyes wide.

"I'm not sure," Balthazar admitted. "But you were certainly not abandoned."

His theory was that someone from the Bureau had lied to Brigette and her family about her son dying after birth.

Savannah and Brick likely never realized that aspect of the story. It hadn't been in the file they'd given him that contained all the background information on Milo. They only looked at facts and consequences, but never the hurricane of emotions that followed.

Vinnie pulled Milo close to him, stroking his hair soothingly. "It's complicated, huh?"

Milo nodded silently, curling into a ball on the pew. His head rested on Vinnie's leg. Balthazar inched closer so that his side touched Milo. He really wasn't sure what he could say, so he hoped a tiny amount of physical contact was enough to reassure him.

Brigette's back was turned to them, but it didn't escape Balthazar's notice that she reached up and touched the baby in Mary's arms.


	14. Settling In

_Sorry for late chapter. Got sidetracked with a few other projects! Since last chapter was heavy on plot, here's some lighter stuff!_

 _Ch 14- Settling In_

* * *

"I can't express how happy I am about this dinner," Brigette said as she ushered them all into her minivan. Balthazar and Vinnie climbed into the back, allowing Milo to ride shotgun. "Of course, I'll have to pick up a few things from the store. What are you in the mood for? It's been a while since I cooked for more than three people."

"You think we could do tacos?" Milo asked. "I'm not picky. You guys want to pick something else?" He glanced in the backseat for approval.

Vinnie grinned. "Always in the mood for good tacos."

"That sounds delightful," Balthazar said. Tacos would never be his first choice, but it didn't matter as long as Milo was happy.

"Tacos it is!" Brigette exclaimed as she backed the car out of the church parking lot. "Sara and Martin love Mexican food to bits. I'm sure you three would get along with them just fine."

She was showing a much livelier side now that she was out of the church. She was smiling more, even laughing when Vinnie made a bad pun. And she certainly didn't mind Milo accidentally breaking a cupholder.

"That's the comic book store Sara visits all the time," Brigitte said. "She has a thing for one of the guys there. I bet she already has plans for a Krillhunter-themed wedding."

"What's Krillhunter?" Milo asked. "Is that a medicine?"

"It's an action movie franchise," Brigette said. "Sara's obsessed. You've never heard of it?"

Milo shook his head. "I never had a chance to watch television."

"Couldn't afford it," Balthazar added hastily before Brigette could ask any questions about their financial status. Perhaps the homeless story didn't satisfy her as much as he'd thought.

"It's all right," Brigette replied. "Just don't let that slip in front of Sara unless you want a 48 hour marathon." She laughed lightly.

Vinnie and Milo chuckled too, though Balthazar didn't see what was so amusing about having to sit through two days' worth of a ridiculous series.

"Here we are," Brigette said, pulling into a parking space next to the shopping cart return. "I always go to this store for groceries. They have a nice rewards program. Anyway, you can come with me or stay here and make sure the minivan doesn't pop a few tires while I'm shopping."

"You two go ahead!" Vinnie exclaimed, waving them off. "We'll keep an eye on things here. And don't forget the guacamole!"

Milo scrambled out of the van a little too quickly, bumping his head on the roof in his haste. He saluted Vinnie. "No problem!"

Balthazar's elbow rested on the window as he watched them enter the store. Brigette had excellent maternal instincts. He couldn't deny it.

And Milo was happy with her.

Brick should've kept his mouth shut. There was no reason Milo couldn't reveal his relation to her.

Well, apart from the safety issues. But it was highly tempting to disregard everything and reunite Milo with his true family. Where he should've grown up, a normal child with playmates and organized sports and people who loved him unconditionally.

"I'm gonna miss the kid too," Vinnie said softly. "He was nice." He squeezed Balthazar's hand gently.

He knew it was for the best. So why couldn't he agree? It should've been a simple decision.

Somehow it wasn't.

Vinnie cracked a smile, though it was strained and not nearly as sincere as before. "We could show up for birthdays, holiday dinners, maybe the occasional neighborhood barbecue. Just cause we can't see him every day doesn't mean we can't see him at all. Right?"

"Listen to yourself," Balthazar said, a bitter taste in his mouth. "Being so sure about abandoning Milo. As far as Milo knows, they abandoned him. It doesn't make sense. Why is he so happy about meeting the family who abandoned him?"

Vinnie shifted in his seat, clasping Balthazar's other hand for comfort. He didn't meet Balthazar's eyes. "Just cut the act. You know perfectly well they didn't abandon Milo."

"And you know perfectly well that we're abandoning him!" Balthazar recoiled at his own outburst, his hand flying up to his mouth.

Vinnie barely reacted.

He knew what was going to happen. And he was fine with it. That was the worst part.

Even worse than the hallucinations.

"Look, we both care about the kid," Vinnie said. "I'm not getting mushier than that. It's for his safety. A life on the run isn't suitable for a kid."

"Not just that," Balthazar said, looking out the window. Brigette exited the store, Milo happily pushing a shopping cart completely covered in groceries next to her. A hind wheel broke off, rolling across the pavement and almost tripping a toddler.

Milo said something to Brigette, probably an apology, but she smiled instead and helped him push the cart so that the weight was supported on the front wheels instead.

Balthazar pulled away. No sense in ruining Milo's happiness with his constant worrying.

"He deserves people who are capable of taking care of him."

* * *

The Murphy home was in a nice neighborhood. Nothing fancy, nothing run-down. Two toddlers played in the front yard of the house across the street under the watchful eye of their mother. Flowers circled neatly trimmed bushes, and the lawns were green and healthy. The only fault he could find was a single fence board that had fallen off, but it was something that could easily be fixed.

Maybe he was just trying to find an excuse to not leave Milo with them.

"Sara will be home in an hour," Brigette explained as she set the groceries in the kitchen. "And Martin will be back at five. In the meantime, why don't you three clean up? There's an upstairs and downstairs bathroom you can use. And there's always some spare clothes lying around. Feel free to use them!"

Milo shrugged off his sweatervest, recoiling as he sniffed it. "More clothes is nice, but I'm kinda attached to this one."

"Well, if you want to use the washing machine go ahead," Brigette pointed to a small room next to the front door. "You'll find everything you need in the cabinets."

She went into the kitchen to prepare the tacos for dinner later that evening, leaving them in front of a closet filled to the brim with clothes and towels. Balthazar wondered if these clothes all came from charity, or if there was just a need to have spares because of Murphy's Law.

Milo grabbed a stack of towels and pulled, Balthazar quickly throwing his arm out to prevent a box full of CDs from falling on him. "Thanks!" Milo exclaimed. "So I can just pick anything?"

"As long as it fits, it doesn't matter," Vinnie said, grabbing a white undershirt and sweatpants. "Burn this into your memory, kid. Not every house is gonna conveniently have clothes that'll fit. Just like getting that sweatervest, except no money's involved."

Milo found a pair of shorts and a slightly large, red T-shirt that had a picture of a krill on it. Balthazar thought it was an odd thing to put on a T-shirt.

"You two go ahead," Balthazar said. "And neatly fold your dirty clothes and set them outside the bathroom door. Don't just discard it on the floor. I'll put them in the wash while I'm waiting."

Milo rushed upstairs, almost tripping over the top step in his hurry to clean up.

"I know that was directed at me," Vinnie said, lightly elbowing Balthazar. "I'll take it over you hogging the bathroom any day."

"Please," Balthazar scoffed. "You always do a rush job."

He headed upstairs to collect Milo's pile of clothes, which were folded somewhat neatly. He was glad someone tried to heed his instructions around here.

Unlike Vinnie, who apparently thought balling everything in his shirt and neatly folding meant the same thing.

After some debate, Balthazar decided to put Milo and Vinnie's clothes in the same load. Milo could have his sweatervest back by dinnertime this way.

As he predicted, Vinnie was out of the bathroom within ten minutes. Balthazar grabbed his towel and clean clothes, shutting the door behind him. He removed his shirt and watch, carefully tracing the fading circular burn on his chest.

It didn't hurt that much. Just a light sting if he pushed the area with a finger.

He double-checked the dress shirt he found in the closet so he could be sure it hid the burn from view.

* * *

A shower was just what he needed to relax. It had certainly been a while since he'd felt clean.

He set his old clothes on top of the washing machine, intending to come back in twenty minutes once the timer ran out. The front door opened, a teenage girl with blonde hair stepping inside. She halfway shut the door before she caught sight of him, freezing in place with her mouth partly opened.

"Mom!" she finally yelled. "There's a robber doing his laundry in our house!"

Balthazar coughed indignantly. "Young lady, that's not exactly how you handle a robber."

"And he admitted it too!" she added.

Brigette appeared, drying her hands on a cloth towel. "I see you've met Sara," she hid an amused smile behind her hand. "Sara, this is Cavendish. I invited him to dine with us tonight. I know you love tacos."

"Oh," Sara scratched her head. "Sorry. I never think before I speak."

Brigette patted her back. "And he's not the only one joining us. Why don't you get acquainted with our guests? I'd better get back to cooking. The meat's not going to brown itself!" She hurried back to the kitchen.

"Do-over?" Sara asked hopefully.

Balthazar nodded, extending his hand. "Balthazar Cavendish. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Sara replied, shaking his hand. Her grip was flimsy, as if she wasn't used to the formality. "So who were the other-oh my gosh I was wondering where my Krillhunter shirt went!"

In Balthazar's opinion, their first meeting could have gone a lot better.

"This is yours?" Milo asked, gesturing to his shirt. "I can give it back."

Sara grinned, shaking her head. "Keep it. Red looks so much better on you anyway. Besides, I probably outgrew it. So have you seen Krillhunter? Whoops, getting ahead of myself. What's your name?"

"Milo! And nope. Never," Milo said. "Is it good?"

"It's not just good! It's absolutely amazing!" Sara exclaimed. "If you've never seen it, then I'll just have to do my sacred duty as a fan and introduce the franchise to someone new! Welcome to the Krillian World Order, Milo...er...what's your last name?"

"Murphy!" Milo said.

"Murphy, huh?" Sara mused.

Balthazar stiffened, wondering if Milo had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to reveal his biological relationship to his family yet.

But Sara shrugged instead. "Funny. That's my last name too. Small world, I guess!"

Balthazar sighed in relief.

"This is Mr. Dakota. You didn't meet him yet. He's really cool," Milo said. "Probably should've introduced him a lot earlier."

Vinnie gave her a two fingered salute, which Sara returned with more ease than the handshake. "I promise Balthy isn't here to rob you. Real burglars don't dress in formal wear all the time. Would be hard to get around that way."

"I think we established that I am not robbing them," Balthazar grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Don't mind him," Vinnie waved them off. "He's always grouchy. You two go enjoy your movie. Do some icebreakers. Just save your appetites."

Sara nodded eagerly. "C'mon, Milo! We'll start off with the first Krillhunter! You're gonna love it! The protagonist is played by Tobias Trollhammer, and he's pretty hot! So the evil dude is Professor Grant and he wants to mutate all the krill into horrible man-eating monsters and they have to stop him from infecting Hong Kong's water supply with radioactive krill and-"

Her chatter faded away as she led Milo to her bedroom.

"I am not always grouchy," Balthazar muttered.

Vinnie smirked. "Yeah, you aren't always grouchy. That was a gross exaggeration. You're more at eighty percent."

* * *

 _Because Orton is an angel in this AU, Dr. Zone doesn't exist so I transferred Milo liking Krillhunter to Sara instead._


	15. Evening

_So the stuff with the Murphys is pretty much a combination of the scenes with the mother dog and her puppies and the couple that adopts Anne Marie._

 _Ch 15- Evening_

* * *

Balthazar placed the bowls of shredded lettuce and diced tomatoes in the middle of the table, while Brigette cleaned up the stray pieces of cheese. Vinnie had gone upstairs to hang out with the kids, and judging from the laughter, they were having a good time.

He chose not to disturb them until dinner was ready. Besides, Vinnie had a far better disposition for kids than he did. Collecting Milo's sweatervest from the dryer, he neatly hung it off the back of a chair.

"Cavendish, how did you and Dakota meet Milo?" Brigette asked. "If you don't mind me asking. Did you adopt him?"

They adopted him all right, but not in the traditional way through dealings with the local CPS and the legal system. He couldn't exactly communicate that to her though.

"Yes," Balthazar replied. "A child shouldn't have to be raised in such a brutal environment."

And he was hiding behind vague statements again. This habit was almost as bad as his watch-grabbing.

"I see," Brigette said as she washed a heavy pot. "And I'm sorry if I'm prying too much, but do you know if he was...abused?"

The last word hung in the air heavily.

Balthazar grabbed the sweatervest and refolded it just to give his hands something to do. These questions were starting to get a bit invasive for his liking.

"I...can't say to which extent," Balthazar said softly. "But it's hard to tell at first glance."

Brigette said nothing.

An awkward silence settled in the kitchen for a few minutes, Brigette rubbing the same spot of the sink with a kitchen sponge while Balthazar tried to refold the sweatervest so it didn't wrinkle in the corner.

It was broken by the sound of a scream and a dull thud from the backyard. Brigette turned the water off, rubbing her hands on a dish towel. "You'll have to forgive him," she said with a fond smile. "My husband is always crashing into the backyard on his bike."

Balthazar rushed outside to see a man sprawled in the grass, his bike overturned next to him. "Sir! Are you okay?" he asked.

He groaned in pain. "Mrs. Astric, my wildebeest ate my microscope," he said dazedly.

"I can take it from here," Brigette smiled. "Why don't you get everyone else to the dinner table? Don't worry about Martin, at least he was wearing two helmets this time."

Balthazar said nothing as he watched her pull the two bike helmets off Martin's head, hugging him gently. He had a cowlick like Milo. His short, brown hair was like Milo's.

Even the nose and eyes were similar.

Balthazar forced himself to go upstairs before he could think too hard on the resemblance.

"-and that's why you should never go undercover at a bar while you have food poisoning from the previous night's Chinese buffet," Vinnie finished.

Balthazar leaned against the wall, unimpressed. "Dakota, that story is highly inappropriate for children," he said.

Vinnie responded with a mischievous smirk. "That's not inappropriate. But I suppose I could tell them about the time you were dreaming about that Hildegarde woman and you suddenly woke up with your hand near my-"

He crossed the room quickly, hauling Vinnie to his feet and pointing him in the direction of the stairs. "No, we are not speaking of that! Downstairs, now!"

Vinnie shrugged nonchalantly, heading downstairs.

"Ahem, my apologies to both of you," Balthazar said. "Milo, your sweatervest is ready. It's hanging on a chair by the dining room table."

"Great! Tacos, here we come!" Milo exclaimed, following Vinnie. He tripped over the second to last step and landed on his stomach, though he wasted no time in getting back on his feet.

"Don't forget to wash your hands, both of you!" Balthazar shouted, prepared to catch and drag them to the nearest sink. Then he caught Sara giving him a strange look.

"So," she began. "Are you two married?"

"W-what?" Balthazar sputtered. "No! Why would I marry Dakota?"

Sara shrugged. "Well, you two act like an old married couple. No offense."

"A bit late for that," Balthazar muttered.

"What? Some couples are all mushy and others banter. No biggie if that's your schtick," Sara giggled.

Balthazar shook his head in annoyance. Teenagers.

* * *

Martin recovered somewhat quickly, though there was an ice pack and paper towel tied to the side of his head. Sara ran up and hugged him. "Hey, dad!" she exclaimed. "Rough day at work?"

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Oh, this? I had another bike crash. Work wasn't so bad. Bobby's car got caught underneath a flock of migrating Canadian geese though. Poor man. So are these lovely folks all of your guests, Brigette?"

Brigette nodded. "This is Cavendish, Dakota, and Milo."

Balthazar and Vinnie politely shook hands with him.

On the other hand, Milo's head was caught in his sweatervest as he tried to put it on. Balthazar quickly helped him before he could accidentally stumble into any heavy or sharp objects lying around.

"Thanks!" Milo gasped.

"Don't worry. I do the same thing," Martin said. "Milo, right?"

As Martin regaled them with his own embarrassing stories, Balthazar was struck by how remarkably similar they looked. He wondered if some parenting instinct had already led them into recognizing their own son.

"So, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's eat!" Sara exclaimed, grabbing the tortillas from the middle of the table.

"Sara, what are we forgetting?" Brigette scolded gently.

Milo took his seat, glancing at Sara in confusion. "My hands are clean," he said.

"No, not that. Prayer," Sara muttered.

"I'll lead," Martin said.

Martin and Brigette closed their eyes and bowed their heads. Sara clasped her hands together, but she was more focused on the food than the prayer. Vinnie quietly poured himself a glass of soda, sipping it while he waited. Milo and Balthazar looked at each other awkwardly.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful meal. We're truly blessed for having this time together. I ask that you watch over every person at this table. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen," Martin said reverently.

Balthazar was just thankful he wasn't long-winded about it. Time traveling typically left no time to attend to spiritual matters, not that people at the Bureau actually practiced religion. Most of the time, it was faked if they needed to go undercover during a particularly religious time period.

Sara was the first to the tortillas. She plucked two from the plate before passing them to Vinnie, then starting spooning everything else into them.

"Good choice in clothing, Milo," Martin said. "Don't really see that many kids wearing sweatervests."

"Really?" Milo asked with a mouthful of lettuce.

Sara nodded as she took a large bite of her taco, not caring as the contents spilled out on her plate. "Considered nerd culture, dorky, and uncool years ago. But we reclaimed their honor now! Even if it's still uncommon with the younger generations. Oh well. We should be trendsetters!"

"That's an awful lot of work. I tried making tracksuits trendy a while back, but it only caught on with joggers," Vinnie said. "Just try not to attract any weirdos with your fashion trend. It's a fair warning."

Balthazar tuned out of the conversation, uninterested in fashion trends among 21st century adolescents. He was more concerned about not making a mess with his tacos. Granted, eating neatly without splattering meat and lettuce everywhere was difficult but not impossible.

Besides, Mexican food was practically an invite for uncouth table manners.

"So Milo, where'd you go to school?" Martin asked.

Balthazar froze, opening his mouth to quickly fumble for a lie. Vinnie placed a hand on his leg.

A silent no.

They would have to back up whatever Milo said.

"Oh," Milo said nervously. "I didn't really stay at one school for long. Guess I just had to teach myself."

Unfortunately, the file on Milo was long gone, buried somewhere in their old apartment. As a result, he was unable to recall if the papers inside included testing for literacy and arithmetic.

However, he never saw Milo have issues reading, so he'd probably learned at some point. But he had a sneaking suspicion Milo was self-taught with minimal support to hone his skills.

"We can recommend a few schools around here if you'd like. Danville may be strange to newcomers at first, but the teachers here are some of the nicest around," Martin said.

"Ah, that won't be necessary," Balthazar said. It would be difficult to find the appropriate documentation that was necessary to enroll in a school. He would rather not give the Bureau a paper trail to track Milo down to a school facility anyway, or be in legal trouble for falsifying records.

He was already a criminal, and there was no need to lengthen the list of illegal stunts he'd pulled so far.

When Brigette gave him an odd look, Balthazar decided he needed to elaborate more to convince them. "Milo is still adjusting, and until he says ready to attend a public school, we won't force him to enroll."

There was a light slap on his leg, and Balthazar looked over to see Vinnie with a small smile directed at him. Martin and Brigette dropped the subject, and instead began talking about their coworkers.

It was a better fabrication than he'd thought.

Sara and Milo were the first to finish their meals, and they rushed back to the TV to watch the second Krillhunter movie.

"Do you want help with the cleanup?" Vinnie asked, already moving the leftovers to the counter.

Brigette nodded. "That would be lovely. Thank you so much!"

And that left Balthazar and Martin.

* * *

"I can't thank you enough," Martin said, patting the open couch cushion next to him so they could chat comfortably. Balthazar chose the loveseat that was slightly further away as a precaution. Martin didn't seem to mind though. "Brigette has a soft spot for children. Can't ever turn one down. If she hadn't chosen to be an architect, well, teaching would be right up her alley."

"You have a lovely family," Balthazar said. And he meant it. Sara had her charms too, even if she was a bit eccentric.

Martin glanced at the floor. "There could've been another one. We would've had a little boy if he survived. Sara was so excited to have a little brother."

He let out a humorless laugh, and Balthazar cast a glance upstairs. Their son was finally home where he belonged and they didn't know it.

"She begged us to let her name him," Martin continued. "Wanted to call him Krillhunter. I told her we were willing to take 'Hunter' into consideration. I wanted to name him Martin Jr. though. Brigette looked at me like I was crazy for that one."

Balthazar couldn't imagine Milo being named anything other than Milo. Both 'Hunter' and 'Martin Jr.' didn't suit him at all.

"Labor was a long process. Seemed like an eternity because I had to wait outside the room. The staff didn't want me in there with her. Afraid I would mess up the equipment because they had to do a C-section. And there was no time to call a babysitter for Sara. She was only four, and she kept asking me, 'Daddy, can I see my brother now?' She fell asleep on me, so I could only hold her and hope Brigette and the baby would be okay."

Of course Milo was wanted. He'd been loved before he could set foot outside the womb. He would be so happy to hear this.

"Brigette was too exhausted to hold the baby. The doctor let me catch a glimpse of him, but he was adamant that the baby needed to be tested. Apgar scoring, blood tests, the usual. I only held him for five minutes before he was whisked away. It was lonely. Wife out of it, young child needing rest, personnel rushing around. I thought everything would be all right. Murphy's Law spared this child during the nine months of development, that he was a little fighter and could take on the world one step at a time."

Balthazar knew what happened next. The doctor passed Milo onto someone else at the Bureau, then told the Murphy family their son had died from complications after birth. The horrible act wouldn't be caught for another thirteen years.

"The doctor came back, and told me our son hadn't survived. He didn't give us the option of saying goodbye," Martin's voice had dropped to a whisper. "I had to explain to Brigette that he was gone. She wanted to see the body, and I told her no. But Sara was convinced aliens had stolen her brother. There was a kind woman on staff that day who explained death better to a four year old than I ever could. I don't know how much Sara remembers."

Balthazar wasn't sure how he could explain that Sara had simply identified the wrong culprits that day.

Martin took a shaky breath. "Sorry, I shouldn't have dumped all that on you. You probably wanted a break from life, huh?"

"It's difficult, but we manage," Balthazar replied.

* * *

Milo was supposed to be asleep in Sara's bedroom. She was more than willing to have a sleepover, and it took Balthazar and Brigette to convince them to go to bed once ten pm rolled around. However, there was still a fair bit of giggling and muffled noises from the bedroom above.

Vinnie was already laying down on the bed, watching as Balthazar took off his socks. "I heard your conversation earlier," Vinnie said. "Guy never found it suspicious that the doctor never let him see the body?"

"They were sleep-deprived, stressed, and emotionally compromised," Balthazar said, setting his watch and glasses on the nightstand beside him. "It's understandable."

He put on some borrowed pajamas in the bathroom, then laid down next to Vinnie. "I've been thinking of talking to Milo," Balthazar said.

Vinnie turned to face him. "We're doing this, huh?" he yawned. "He's a strong kid. He'll be alright."

As his eyes fluttered closed, Balthazar wished he could be so sure.


	16. The Last Day

_I am so mean._

 _Ch 16: The Last Day_

* * *

They planned to leave it all behind in the afternoon. The food had been great, and the Murphy family had the best hospitality Balthazar had ever seen in his life.

Milo would be fine. He'd have a good education, a caring big sister, and a career of his own in years to come.

And they would never be able to see him grow up.

Since the neighborhood was fairly safe, Balthazar figured the least he and Vinnie could do was spend one last blissful morning with Milo. It was a lovely Saturday morning, but Balthazar would've preferred an overcast sky and chilly winds.

It seemed far more appropriate than a calm, cloudless blue horizon.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Sara begged. "I could show you the field where all the neighborhood kids play, or what about Mr. Cardina's yard? Don't ever set one foot on his property! That's the first rule around here!"

Brigette waved her away. "You'll have plenty of time to hang out with Milo, sweetie. I'm sure they'll manage."

Milo was the first one out the door, bouncing with excitement at the prospect of a walk around the neighborhood. Balthazar stared straight ahead and tried not to think of how this was be the last time he would see Milo get excited over something so tiny.

"Don't walk too fast," Vinnie said as he stretched his arms. "This is just for leisure."

"I guarantee you won't see him going faster than a snail unless food's involved," Balthazar muttered to Milo, who covered his mouth in a futile attempt to mask a giggle.

Vinnie pouted. "I heard that."

"Good," Balthazar said. "Maybe it would encourage you to keep up."

They walked over to the next street, which was filled with tacky yard decorations and trimmed bushes. Balthazar quickly ushered them out onto the sidewalk by the main road. The overabundance of garden gnomes and flamingos creeped him out.

In the span of ten minutes, Milo had said hello to five joggers, petted two dogs, and picked up a toy that fell out of a stroller. Murphy's Law didn't matter as long as Milo was around to brighten up their day.

And they wouldn't have that ray of sunshine for much longer.

They would only have to take care of themselves. One less mouth to feed, one less person to keep track of.

Balthazar hated dragging people into his own messes. But somehow they stuck to him like glue, never leaving no matter how much he tried to distance himself.

They had come to a beautiful park with gentle hills and a playground. The happy families playing together were only a reminder of what they could never have.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Vinnie grabbed his hand and squeezed, a silent reminder of what they needed to do.

Vinnie stared at his shoes, his free hand digging around his pocket for something. He pulled out a granola bar and shoved the entire thing in his mouth.

While Balthazar usually gave him an earful for his eating habits, he held his tongue for this occasion.

Milo's smile faded away, replaced by a look of concern. "Are you alright?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine," Vinnie coughed. "Don't worry about me, kid. I eat when I'm nervous."

Now was the time.

Balthazar decided to cut in quickly before Milo could question it any further. Best to get the initial heartache over with now.

"Milo, there's something we need to tell you," he said, gently steering Milo to a nearby bench. "You'd best sit down."

Milo obeyed, glancing up at them in confusion. "What's going on?"

Vinnie threw the wrapper of the granola bar away, plopping on the bench next to Milo. "We're leaving the house, kid," he sighed.

It still hadn't registered.

"Do I get to say goodbye then?" Milo asked, his hands folding in his lap. He brought his knees to his chest, curling into a tiny ball. One night and he was already attached to the Murphys.

The kid seriously needed to learn how to set boundaries.

"If you must," Balthazar said quietly. "But you're not saying goodbye to them."

"But I thought you said-"

Something in him snapped, all the pent-up frustration at this ridiculous situation exploding out before he could stop it.

Balthazar lifted a corner of his glasses to wipe a stray tear. "Don't you understand it already, Milo?" he thundered. Milo flinched at the sudden increase in volume, and Vinnie placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

"Dakota and I are leaving you with the Murphy family, so don't even think about arguing! This decision is final!"

Before they could even process his outburst, Balthazar turned around and sprinted down the street. He didn't care where he was running. Didn't bother to check his location at all. He just needed to get away from it all.

Away from Vinnie, from the families in the park, from Milo.

The watch ticked, and Balthazar fumbled with the strap before ripping it away from his body. He threw it against the ground, stomped on the smooth golden surface, and hurled it against a brick wall.

No matter what he did, the watch remained free of any dents and blemishes.

Breathing heavily, he grabbed a small rock with a sharp edge. Clutching the watch, he stabbed the rock into the clock face multiple times. It made a horrible screeching noise, like nails on a chalkboard, but he didn't care anymore.

He was done worrying about the stupid watch.

Then he felt something sharp prick his side, and he knew no more.

* * *

 _The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a blood-red carpet. He squinted, focusing on an odd pattern in the thread. An ethereal hand shot out in front of him, and he scrambled backwards._

 _The rattling and clanking of his shackles weren't enough to drown out the horrible cackles of the demons around him._

 _Peering closer, he realized there were people with black, soulless eyes pressed into the carpet. All of them reached up with their remaining, skeletal limbs for freedom that would never come._

" _Take them to the Lake of Fire!" someone jeered._

 _Them? He was the only human here._

 _A pillar of hot, white flames erupted in the middle of the room. Balthazar looked away from the brightness, shielding his eyes with his chained hands._

 _When it died away, only a demon clutching Vinnie and Milo in its wicked claws remained._

 _Balthazar tried to scream out to them, but the collar around his throat was too tight._

 _Not them. Not them, he screamed._

 _They struggled and kicked in vain, Vinnie's desperate pleas for Milo's life falling on uncaring ears. A poker was jabbed into his back, and Balthazar had no other options but to follow the demon dragging Vinnie and Milo to their deaths._

 _The lake bubbled and roared with eternal hunger, the center an unforgiving swirl of red. They were led to a high cliff overlooking the all-devouring flames._

 _No, no, no, Balthazar pleaded in his mind as lurched forward to the demon stomping to the edge with Vinnie and Milo in tow. Metal bit into his throat, and he stumbled back, clutching his neck in agony._

" _Fear not," a demon leaned close to his ear. He could feel the sharp, twisted fangs move as it spoke. "You shall not perish the same way as throw you away now is such a shameful waste of those foolish enough to reject heaven."_

 _The demon raised Milo over the edge._

 _Someone gripped Balthazar's head like a vice, forcing him to look on as a choked scream erupted from Vinnie's body..._

* * *

"-non-fatal. He'll live, but he'll be incapacitated for what we have to do next. One of us should stay here to make sure nobody comes to finish the job."

Balthazar's eyes flew open, and he bolted upright, gasping for breath. His hands flew to his throat. Though there was no metal collar, there was a pressure against his skin.

His watch sat on the bedside table next to him, completely undamaged.

Bedside table?

Vinnie laid on a bed across the room, fast asleep. Everything seemed normal, apart from the drastic change in location.

Then he saw the gauze wrapped around Vinnie's lower right leg.

"Good, you're awake," Savannah said. "We can't waste time."

"Just give me the brief version," Balthazar said, grabbing his watch and tucking it under his shirt. As much as he hated it, he couldn't let it out of his sight.

The atmosphere was tense. Something was terribly wrong.

"You were injected with a fear serum," Savannah said in a clipped tone that invited no room for argument. "With you out of the way, your companions were easy targets for the Bureau. Dakota is lucky to be alive."

"And Milo? Where is he?" Balthazar demanded.

He didn't know why he bothered asking.

Savannah held up a Temporal Transporter. "Brick is staying here to keep an eye on Dakota. But we have to leave immediately."

He watched as she typed in the coordinates. "Where are we going?"

"1939 New Orleans. Milo and the rest of the Murphy family were taken there. This is our chance to stop that madman Block once and for all. Failure is not an option."

Balthazar stood up, marching past Savannah to Vinnie's side. He squeezed Vinnie's cold hand, allowing a small amount of comfort to flow from the familiar gesture.

"I have to leave you behind. I know I promised I wouldn't, but I have to now," Balthazar whispered. "You don't have to forgive me. I...I understand if you don't want to, or can't. Just try to recover. Okay?"

"Let's go," Savannah hauled him to his feet and dragged him through the portal.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault.


	17. New Orleans, 1939

_AGH I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT_

 _This is the first multichapter story I have ever had the motivation to finish! Thanks for all your support!_

 _Ch 17: New Orleans, 1939_

* * *

When they arrived in New Orleans, they were greeted by loud, raucous laughter and people dressed in colorful, revealing outfits. It was absolute madness in the streets. Nobody would pay attention to a family being murdered that night.

"I hate Mardi Gras," Savannah muttered as a group of intoxicated men shouted at her as they passed by.

Balthazar struggled to keep pace, sometimes only managing to find her in the crowd by the sparkle of her jewelry. They stuck out like a sore thumb, since they had the good sense to leave all their clothes on. "We'll never find them," he said worriedly. "There's far too many people."

"If we could just track down an agent, we could take them to some place quiet enough for an interrogation. I brought all my gear with me," Savannah replied. "And I'll ask the questions."

"I'm perfectly fine with that," Balthazar said. Anything to save Milo and his family. Maybe get a quiet moment to explain everything as well.

But it was a long shot. Milo wouldn't forgive him after his outburst. For running off and not protecting Vinnie from being shot. For putting a target on everyone's backs.

He had no idea why Savannah and Brick didn't run this mission themselves and let him play nurse to Vinnie instead.

No, he would probably find a way to make Vinnie's injury worse. It was for the best.

As they reached the end of the street, the crowd thinned out. It was clear they were in the poorer area of town, judging from the run-down shacks along the docks and boarded windows. There was no way to tell an occupied building from a vacant one.

He didn't want to think about what would happen if they busted into the wrong house and a local attacked out of self-defense.

They were in enough trouble with the Bureau. He had no desire to be killed by the locals either.

As he and Savannah pondered over next move in silence, a woman in a revealing peacock costume approached them with a tray full of alcoholic beverages. "Drinks on the house?" she asked, letting out a bright, high-pitched giggle. An oversized handbag swung by her side, appearing out of place on her outfit.

Something about her looked familiar, though Balthazar couldn't figure why.

Savannah dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "I'm waiting on someone."

She huffed. "Fine. Be a worse killjoy than that guy over-" she pointed to Balthazar, her eyes widening.

Then he recognized her. She was one of the agents following them around that day at the mall. The ones who mocked Milo for knocking over a mannequin. And worst of all, she had no issue taking Milo away from a happy life and locking him away from the world.

"Indigo, where are they?" he demanded.

Indigo stepped back, biting her lip. While she focused all her attention on Balthazar, she wouldn't notice Savannah sneaking around her to attack while her back was turned.

"Oh, you're here to rescue that menace," Indigo said lightly, as if she were talking about the weather. "Cute, but I ain't telling."

"Very well, then we'll force it out of you," Balthazar replied.

"Force it out of me?" Indigo scoffed. "Ha, what could you possibly do?"

Once she was close enough, Savannah suddenly thrust out her arms, pressing her bracelets against Indigo's throat. Indigo gasped, flailing in her arms. The tray full of alcohol hit the ground, scattering glass and liquid against the pavement.

"These bracelets are equipped with lasers that can melt a hundred feet of solid titanium," Savannah growled. "If you don't want to me to experiment on the effects they have on humans, I suggest you start speaking."

Indigo's eyes watered, and she nodded, making desperate sounds as she choked for air.

"I think she's ready," Balthazar said.

Savannah released her hold, though she kept one bracelet pushed to the back of Indigo's neck. "Start walking." She tossed the large handbag aside, leaving it behind on the sidewalk. Someone else would find it, probably sell it for money.

Leaving items that didn't belong in the time period was illegal, but he didn't care anymore.

Some part of him wanted to scream at her for harming Milo, possibly shooting Vinnie in the leg, and for all the twisted ideals she harbored while working for the Bureau.

They took her to a secluded area nestled between two buildings. Savannah tied Indigo's hands together with a thick rope, leaning her against the wall. Then she bound her legs as well.

"I always interrogate better when I tie them up first. Now, where's Milo?" Savannah asked, folding her arms against her chest.

Indigo let out a harsh laugh. "Traitors to the Bureau, boy, what'll they think of next? That's hilarious. Ya save a kid and think you're heroes. Ever consider that people are gonna get hurt if that kid's loose in society?"

"People have adapted to dangerous situations since the beginning of time," Balthazar snapped. "Milo's no different."

"May I remind you to let me do the talking?" Savannah asked calmly, but with a dangerous edge in her voice. "You're changing the subject, Indigo. I'm asking for a location. I'm not interested in an ethics debate."

She held her bracelet close to Indigo's throat. She gulped, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Okay, okay, slow down and I'll tell you," Indigo quickly replied, her eyes flitting between the weapon and Savannah. "Block wanted me to distract you while the others held the Murphys at the docks. All the Murphys."

The docks. Were they trying to drown them? Blow them up? Send them out to sea and hope they never returned?

The possibilities were endless, and none of them were good.

"One last question," Savannah said. "Is there anybody accompanying Mr. Block?"

Indigo's lip quirked upward, as if she knew something they didn't. "Scarlet and Red. You'll never get past them."

"I see," Savannah opened a communicator, typing something into the pad. "I've contacted security. A team has been notified of your location in the timestream and you will be detained in a holding cell for further inquiry. We're done here. Let's head to the docks now."

Balthazar ignored Indigo's protesting that they couldn't leave her there tied up. He just needed to find Milo and apologize.

For everything.

* * *

They'd checked five docks and all they found were empty boats and pieces of ropes. New Orleans was bigger than he imagined. Savannah was scolding him for interrupting the interrogation, but he wasn't listening. He could only listen to the dark waves lap at the docks, danger lurking in the murky waters below. The watch continued with its repetitive ticks. The accursed thing was always louder when he panicked.

"Let my husband go!" someone screamed.

"He's as much of a danger as the Jinx, ma'am," a cold female voice said.

Savannah pulled Balthazar behind a brick wall, and they carefully peered around it to find Brigitte clutching Sara, tears streaming down their faces. Brigitte shielded Sara, their bodies were shaking uncontrollably. She glared at a woman with a bright red sundress, who looked rather bored at the job she had been assigned to do.

"Scarlet," Savannah said. "But no sign of Block and Red."

"If it were up to me, I would have you checked for any dangerous genes too," Scarlet continued. "But I have orders to let you go free. According to our records, females of your family do not pass on Murphy's Law. Suppose it was wrong, and you were simply carriers. That would make for an interesting study, don't you agree?"

Sara shrank away, and Brigitte hugged her tightly, glaring fiercely at Scarlet. She was now the opposite of the gentle, grieving mother he'd met at the church.

No, not quite the opposite. Mothers could be a force to be reckoned with too.

"First you steal my son, and now you threaten to rip the rest of our lives away! Do you have any humanity in you at all?" Brigitte screamed.

Son.

She'd known.

All that time and she never said anything.

Balthazar couldn't recall any moment where any of them had let something slip. Or maybe they had, and he never noticed.

"We act on the greater good," Scarlet replied. "If that means we must hide a child who can endanger people's lives with his mere presence, then so be it."

"More evidence," Savannah muttered, closing a recorder she'd concealed in her dress. "They make it so easy. We're set to reveal ourselves now."

They stepped out from behind the brick fence, taking advantage of Scarlet's momentary surprise to plant themselves firmly in front of Brigitte and Sara.

"You again," Scarlet sniffed in disdain.

"I could say the same about you," Balthazar growled. "Give me a straight answer and stop evading our questions. Where are they?"

Scarlet yawned. "On the broken boat. Yeah, by the time you get there, they'll be dead."

"Don't lie," Savannah retorted. "They're your precious experiments and you know you'd rather keep them alive."

"Oh, I'm not lying. Why must you always give false accusations, Savannah?" Scarlet smirked.

Savannah wasted no time before rushing forward and kicking out with a sharp heel. Rolling to her left to avoid it, Scarlet suddenly grabbed her leg and knocked her off balance, driving her into the ground with an elbow. Savannah gasped for air, though she quickly recovered and knocked Scarlet off her stomach with a punch.

Balthazar saw his chance, and gestured for Brigitte and Sara to follow him while Savannah kept Scarlet occupied.

He would have to rescue Milo alone. There was no other option.

* * *

Brigitte and Sara were in no condition to accompany during the rescue. Sara's eyes were bloodshot from crying, her hair unkempt from Scarlet's rough treatment. Brigitte wouldn't meet his eyes, she kept staring off into the distance as if Martin and Milo would miraculously appear in front of them.

He could see the broken boat in the distance, which appeared to be a large houseboat that was once used to host parties and jazz musicians. But finding a safe place for Brigitte and Sara to rest after their ordeal would have to be his temporary priority.

Thankfully, they happened upon an isolated part of the marsh that was separated from the docks by several rows of trees. They sat on a large, gnarled tree branch, leaning against each other for support.

They would be safe here. But before he left, there was something he had to know.

"If I may ask, when did you realize Milo was your son?" Balthazar asked quietly.

"When I met him in the church," Brigitte said. Her eyes softened, a wistful look crossing her face. "When he told me about the broken tub for the holy water, I thought I was talking to a mini-Martin. He looks a lot like his father."

Sara wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I thought he died, Mom. You told me he died because of complications."

"That's what I believed too. For a long time," Brigitte whispered. "But he's alive. I-no, we missed out on so much."

He wasn't only rescuing Milo because he brought so much sunshine into a life that seemed unfulfilling. Balthazar was rescuing him for Martin, who could now protect Milo from harm with a fatherly hand. For Brigitte, who would nurture and guide Milo towards a bright future. For Sara, who would adore her little brother and be looked up to in return. And for Vinnie, who would always provide a shoulder to lean on when life became hard.

In the past, he used to think saving the world meant something grandiose. One huge act to prevent the earth from being destroyed, or an unexpected hero showing up to stop a villain's plot for world domination.

But saving the world started at home. It started with one person, then several, expanding to include the community and entire nations. It was enough to encircle the globe a million times over.

And when one person was removed from the link, everyone would take a hit.

He wasn't going to fail his mission.

Balthazar handed Brigitte a tracking device. "This will alert Savannah-she's the woman in the blue dress you saw with me, to your location. If you want to know details about Milo's life for the past thirteen years, she'll be able to help."

"Thank you for bringing him home," Brigitte said. "If you did it once before, you can do it again."

Balthazar remained silent, having no idea what to say. Then he turned to the boat.

He was ready.


	18. Rescue

_I've always liked Brigitte, but this was the story that made me really appreciate her. She's a great mother!_

 _Ch 18: Rescue_

* * *

Balthazar took a deep breath, then stepped on the creaky wooden plank to board the old boat. Even from a distance, he could hear the screams of mirth from the locals celebrating Mardi Gras. If they knew that a family was going to be torn apart because they were deemed dangerous, would they still be partying?

The rope docking the boat was old and frayed. It wouldn't take much to cut it and send them careening down the swamp to who knows where.

If Mr. Block and Red had seen him, they hadn't acknowledged his presence yet. He wasn't sure if they were luring him into a trap, or if they simply hadn't realized it. Either way, he found it disconcerting.

Balthazar wished they would appear already so he could punch them in the face as payback for what they put the Murphy family through.

He carefully pried the nearest door open, slipping inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but he could make out the faint outlines of several crates.

But no Milo or Martin.

Balthazar turned to leave when he stepped on something smooth. He bent down to pick it up, feeling the cylindrical object.

His blood ran cold.

A stick of dynamite.

They were planning to blow them up.

Block didn't care about Milo serving as a human test subject anymore. He had served his purpose. Now all that remained was the disposal.

Forget stealth. It was far too slow. He had to charge into wherever Martin and Milo were and get them to safety now.

His heart pounding, he ran for the door. He didn't know where his feet were taking him, but surely he would stumble into the location where they were being held hostage.

Then something clamped onto Balthazar's arm, long nails digging into his skin. He heard a quiet click, followed by something hard pressing into his spine.

For a moment, Balthazar thought he'd picked a boat that was full of opportunistic muggers.

"Hands up and walk," a cold, unfamiliar voice grunted. "Back of the boat. Start moving, traitor."

Balthazar obeyed, putting his trembling hands up. He didn't dare sneak a glance at whoever was behind him. The gun jabbed into his back multiple times, the man seeming to take a sick pleasure at his discomfort.

The boat bobbed slightly as he obeyed the man behind him. It almost made him seasickness. Briefly he entertained the thought of vomiting on the man behind him, grabbing the Murphys, and escaping unscathed.

It was stupid, but surely anything was better than nothing.

But they arrived at the back of the boat before he could come up with a different plan.

Martin's hands were cuffed to the railing, while Milo's legs were bound with rope. They called out for help through their gags upon seeing him, though their hopes were dashed when they saw the gun pointed into his back.

Then the pressure was gone. His relief was short-lived, since he was roughly shoved to the deck in front of Milo and Martin. Groaning, Balthazar sat up, his eyes widening in horror when he saw the man who brutalized him.

Worse, the man who'd been ordered to murder him on the Golden Gate Bridge.

And now Milo was in his clutches.

"Where's Block?" Balthazar demanded.

Red looked down at him, uninterested. "Finishing with the setup. He'll be here soon. You'll have a few moments to talk before your demise."

And they were left alone on the edge of the boat, waiting for death.

Balthazar looked down at the small bump where his watch was hidden. It ticked quietly as always.

He removed the gags from his companions' mouths.

Milo threw himself into Balthazar, hugging him tightly. "Milo, I'm sorry about everything," he whispered.

"It's okay, I forgive you," Milo said simply. "Dakota and I were worried about you though."

It was odd to hear that someone didn't hold a grudge towards him for a mistake, or not get mad at all.

Milo truly was a strange boy.

"I'm alright, but we need to get out of here," Balthazar said, deciding that the emotional stuff could happen at a time when their lives weren't in danger. "Before the boat blows up."

Martin chuckled. "Does seem to happen a lot when I'm on them."

Balthazar quickly undid Martin's cuffs, then started cutting through the rope around Milo's legs with a pocket knife.

Once they were free, Balthazar helped them to their feet. "Come on, let's leave before-"

"Before I show up?" someone grunted.

Mr. Block coldly stared them down from the upper deck.

"Run!" Balthazar yelled. "Other side!"

Martin pushed Milo ahead of him, hoping to at least secure freedom for his son. But Red suddenly blocked the path, and Milo crashed into him. Red swiftly recovered, then picked Milo up by his collar and lifted him into the air.

"Milo!" Martin yelled. His face contorted in rage. "Let go of my son!"

He rushed towards Red with his fists outstretched, but Red simply stuck his leg out, tripping Martin. He slammed into the wall, dazed but not quite ready to give up yet.

Block watched the one-sided fight unfold with no emotion. "Tire him out," he ordered. Red nodded, punching Martin in the face. The battle moved towards the side of the boat, where the walkway was much narrower.

Block regarded the fight with little emotion, moving to the side to watch.

He had to strike now.

Balthazar charged up the stairs, tackling Block from behind. Block screeched, whirling around to throw him off. But he clung on tightly, finally managing to dig his knee into Block's spine.

"Always relied on others for your dirty work!" Balthazar growled, pushing his knee deeper. This was for all the pain he endured under his tyranny, all the fear that he would steal Milo and lock him away from the world.

"Funny. You just mooched off everyone around you!" Block finally threw him off, delivering a sharp kick into Balthazar's side.

Balthazar groaned, clutching his side. He gritted his teeth. Block was not going to have the satisfaction of defeating him.

Ignoring the throbbing pain, he snagged Block's shirt and tried to push him down the stairs. Block lost balance, then he grabbed Balthazar's leg in an attempt to right himself, and they tumbled down the staircase together, punching any available part they could reach.

He rubbed his jaw where he'd taken an enormous blow that left him momentarily disoriented. Then a weight knocked into him as he tried to stand.

Martin had bruises everywhere, and he was breathing heavily. His opponent far outmatched him. Red threw Milo at them, and Martin and Balthazar quickly caught the boy before his head smashed into the deck. His eyes were closed. Milo had been knocked unconscious somewhere in the fight.

Then he saw the match in Red's hand.

He was standing next to the room filled with explosives.

His face was cold, expressionless. There wasn't a trace of humanity left in his dark eyes.

Block stood up to join him, only to suddenly collapse. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. Red had no qualms about killing his own boss either.

Red tossed the match and fled.

"To the water!" Martin shouted. "I'll take Milo."

Despite his injuries, he managed to climb over the railing and jump into the murky water below. Loud hissing filled the air, and Balthazar wasted no time in going overboard.

For a moment, everything was dark. Then Balthazar surfaced, quickly taking off the watch and holding it out of the water so it wouldn't get waterlogged. He swam away quickly, praying for just a little more time.

The boat exploded with a deafening boom, sending debris sky high. Chunks of wood rained down into the water, and Balthazar barely avoided them.

Block never made it.

Balthazar didn't wish such a gruesome end on anyone. Not even Block.

There was a scream from the shore, and Balthazar could barely make out someone frantically searching for something.

It was Martin.

Milo wasn't with him. Martin must've lost been hit by debris somewhere and lost his grip.

Several spotlights illuminated a large body that was lying face down. A pool of blood trailed from several holes in the body to the water, staining it red. There were shouts directed at him from the shore, but Balthazar paid them no mind.

He put his watch on a plank that floated by, took a deep breath, and dove below the surface. His vision was blurry at best, but it was enough to pick out shapes and movement.

A flash of red caught his eye, and Balthazar darted toward it quickly. Milo wasn't moving. Clutching Milo with one arm, Balthazar swam for the surface. His lungs screamed for air.

Then he saw something circular and golden fall to the depths.

His watch!

Balthazar reached out with his foot to grab it, but the current pushed it away.

It was either Milo or the watch.

A stabbing pain shot through his chest. Balthazar didn't know if it was because he was quickly running out of oxygen, or because the hands were counting down to his death.

In a brief moment of clarity among all the chaos, Balthazar knew what he had to do.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he swung Milo up to a small platform that bobbed among the waves, pushing it to the shore. They would take care of everything else.

Savannah would take the Murphy family home. They would be whole again. Vinnie would make a full recovery. Life would go on.

But not for him.

He drew one last, shuddering breath.

And everything blissfully faded away.


	19. Love Survives

_I posted the first chapter for this story on June 29, 2017. When I write a story, sometimes I get immersed just as much as my readers. I develop an understanding for the characters' strengths, their breaking points, and how they ultimately change based on happenings in the story._

 _I'll admit I made one change here that's always bugged me in the movie. WHY THE HELL DIDN'T ITCHY GET TO SAY GOODBYE TO CHARLIE!_

 _Ch 19: Love Survives_

* * *

The red mist was everywhere. The demons were toying with him. Giving him one final chance to wander aimlessly on Earth before dragging him through fire and brimstone for eternity.

He knew exactly where he had to go. The Murphy residence. Which they had kindly opened to a pair who could barely pay rent for a dinky water closet. Time travelers regularly saw the worst of humanity in their duties and missions. The swindlers, the murderers, the exploiters. The ones who ripped a helpless infant away from a loving mother, a caring father, and an excited sister.

They became jaded and uncaring. In their missions to carry out what they called 'the greater good', they had forgotten compassion and empathy. In the end, time travelers were not the ones who should be enjoying a guaranteed heaven.

Heaven should've been for loyal people, like Vinnie Dakota. Or for those who suffered through so much, and retained so much childlike wonder. And especially for loving families who'd been cruelly handed the short end of the stick.

 **Balthazar Cavendish.**

A swirling red cloud reformed into a demonic being, a clawed black hand pointing to the window of the Murphy home.

 **I sense grieving souls. Torture them with your presence. Then I shall collect my dues.**

Balthazar entered through the open window, wisps of red mist trailing behind him. He knew that thing's glowing, molten eyes were burning holes through his back.

Savannah had already brought them home. Milo and Vinnie were sound asleep next to each other. On the other side of the room, an unmade bed lay with its blankets thrown on the floor. He wondered if Milo had a nightmare, or perhaps he felt safer next to someone he trusted.

Balthazar approached the bed, surprised that he could sit on the comforter when he was nothing more than a condemned spirit. Several tiny, dark spots littered the pure white sheets. It was a wonder they'd managed to sleep at all.

 **Only the finest chains and bolts will do for those who reject heaven. I can't wait to see….**

 _Begone, demon. You will not be taking this one. He belongs with us._

 **He rejected you.**

 _Yet he reunited a family and saved the life of an innocent boy. Humans are complex creatures. They have the capacity to love and hate, to do right and wrong, to create and destroy. Your subjects only see the wickedness and ignore the good. This man has done everything in his power to correct his mistakes. He is not perfect, and that's okay. And sacrificing your life for another is the greatest love of all. Therefore, he shall be welcomed into heaven with open arms. Now, Into the depths of hell with you!_

A gentle, blue light illuminated the room, enveloping the blood-red clouds until they dissipated into nothingness. A terrible roar filled the air. then it was gone. All that remained was a twinkling ball of light.

 _Say goodbye, Balthazar._

He didn't know if he should be relieved or surprised that he wasn't going to that awful place. But he would have plenty of time to reflect on it in heaven. Even if he didn't feel like he deserved it.

Balthazar gently shook their shoulders. Milo's eyes fluttered open. "You're back?" he whispered. His cheeks were slightly wet from crying.

"Not for long," Balthazar replied, his words catching in his throat. "I'll be leaving soon. Just thought I'd come and say goodbye."

Milo looked up at him. "Where are you going?"

"Um, it's hard to explain. Somewhere nice, I hope," Balthazar said. "Would it be okay if I asked you to something for me?"

"Sure," Milo chirped. It was like they were talking about the weather. Not him going off to…wherever heaven was in the sky. "What did you have in mind?"

Balthazar glanced over to Vinnie, who gave a slight snore and blissfully ignored everything around him. "Take care of Dakota for me. Make sure he exercises, eats healthy, that sort of thing," he finished lamely. "I don't want him to be alone. He'll eat himself to death otherwise."

Milo gave him a tiny smile, yawning. "I will."

Then he launched himself at Balthazar, wrapping him in a tight hug. Somehow he could feel a living being's warmth. He was going to miss that sensation.

Finally, Balthazar pried him off and gently settled Milo against his pillow. Milo curled up, falling asleep instantly.

Balthazar watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest for a moment, then turned to Vinnie. His throat grew tight. This would be the hardest part.

"Dakota, wake up. I haven't much time," Balthazar shook him as carefully as he could without disturbing Milo.

Vinnie cracked open one eye. "Who says haven't like that?" he groaned.

It was nice to know that Vinnie was going to have a speedy recovery. He was already complaining about his diction.

"I do. And were you actually asleep?" Balthazar asked.

"I heard your voice. I thought I was dreaming. But now you're real, you're here…and…" Vinnie trailed off, catching the hopeless look Balthazar gave him. "You can't stay. Leaving me behind again, huh? That's it. I've had it up to here with you ditching me like that. I'm going where you're going, whether you like it or-agh!"

Balthazar placed Vinnie's good leg back under the covers where it belonged. "Don't agitate your leg if you want it to heal," he scolded. "Besides, you'll be joining me one day. But not now. And don't hurry it along either. You have a chance to watch Milo grow into a fine, young gentleman."

Vinnie sank against his pillow. "Really gonna miss you," he said quietly. "Send me a postcard?"

Balthazar shrugged. "I don't know if they have a postal service up there."

"Oh," Vinnie said, looking away. "So, heading into the light? Didn't know the phrase was literal."

"It is," Balthazar agreed. He stood up, walking towards that warm pillar that would lead straight to eternity. Then he paused, turning back.

"Better get going," Vinnie suggested. "We'll catch up soon."

"Goodbye," Balthazar said, almost choking on such a simple word. Then he looked up, and walked into the light.


	20. Epilogue

"Welcome back," Orton greeted him warmly, clapping Balthazar's back like he'd done nothing more than taken a long trip.

Balthazar could only stare at the distant image of the sleeping city below. "I'm going to miss them."

Orton smiled in sympathy. "Many time travelers are close to someone. Love never truly dies, no matter the form. And we have methods so you can watch over them. I can show you."

"Thanks," Balthazar said, allowing himself to float after Orton. "By any chance, do you happen to have a post office up here?"

Orton nodded. "We do indeed! Cheap rates, and excellent same day delivery service! I'll take you over right-"

Screaming erupted up ahead. "I am not wearing those robes! Get that glowing donut hole away from me!"

Unfortunately, Balthazar recognized that voice all too well. "What is Block doing here?"

"Um, yeah, my colleague had some trouble finding anything good about him in the books," Orton chuckled nervously. "Just give me a moment."

Not in the mood to deal with Block so soon, Balthazar hid in a distant cloudbank and watched the scene play out as Block resisted the angels giving him the full makeover.

"I've had enough of this place, you glorified nutjob," Block spat at Orton. "I'm getting outta here."

He pulled out an alarm clock, not even bothering with stealth as he wound up the key on the back. Several angels fainted from such a bold and dangerous act.

"Touch that clock, and you can never come back," Orton warned.

"Shut up," Block grunted, throwing a halo at him and flying away, still winding the clock. Gasping in horror, Orton angrily raced after him.

" _ **I SAID, TOUCH THAT CLOCK AND YOU CAN NEVER COME BACK!**_ "

Balthazar shook his head. "He'll be back. Unfortunately."


End file.
